Dichotomy: Evan
Part Two of Four: Initiate
Fading Madness Productions

Evan settled easily enough into his role as Companion Mantheof. After a week at the Center spent training and practicing with his newly released power, they traveled to Renweard, Evan astride his own horse for the first time. Mantheof bought him clothes of the sort of rich materials Adrian worked with, which he helped select. By the time they rode into the town which would become his home, even the pain in his new brand had subsided, though it still itched and scabbed a bit.

His days quickly became busy. Exactly why Mantheof, whose job consisted not of defending the country, but of dealing with minor skirmishes among the people of Renweard, maintaining peace between the Miltsians and Cildisc, and managing basic town affairs, needed a Companion remained something of a mystery. Not all Masters were actively engaged in the military, but most of those who weren’t had healing Companions. Evan made himself immediately useful through the secretarial skills he’d so mastered at the Center: his incredibly fast, neat handwriting, sharp memory, and keen eye for detail made him a perfect assistant for a town magistrate. His power also came in handy more than once, cooling, heating, or providing water to the townspeople. In his first week alone he became something of a celebrity for revitalizing a well long believed dry; truly, a powerful example of his abilities, as he had to draw the water from a deep stream and reroute it through thick earth.

He’d finished the task so exhausted he could barely stand for two days, but the people had been thrilled. Some of what the trainers told us may have been propaganda, he thought, carefully avoiding thinking of the person whose rants had so vehemently labeled their words as such, but it is true that Companions can use our powers to serve our country in startling ways.

And Evan felt content.

Not happy, or joyful, really, but content enough. He enjoyed his work, and the fact that he rarely stopped being busy from dawn till night. He loved being free to interact with people, and the life and beat of Renweard, with her mix of Cildisc and Miltsian residents, had a vitality he doubted existed in much of the rest of Helmriche. Mantheof was a kind master, and they got along well. If Evan hoped that he might provoke the magistrate to desire in the first few weeks, he learned the truth of Mantheof’s claim that he had none soon enough. He had his own room, where he could let his overactive imagination run wild, and though there was a certain coldness to stroking his body to completion, he knew little else. He felt he could adapt, as he always did.

Then, as will happen, Evan’s equilibrium was soundly thrown off when he met Tiernan Ennes.

Tiernan arrived in town six months after Evan, who saw him arrive because he was out and about town buying supplies for Mantheof. Evan, used to being greeted warmly by shopkeepers and citizens since his revitalization of the well and offer to create large blocks of ice from which anyone could partake each morning, noticed that Tiernan was greeted with great enthusiasm as well. Evan didn’t speak to the other Cildisc that day, but he did keep his eyes and ears open. He discovered that Tiernan had been born in Renweard 25 years earlier, and lived on a farm nearby, under the district of Lord Kendrick. He did his business in Renweard every few months, and had been missed when he was away longer than expected.

Evan didn’t need gossip to know that the young man, brown-haired and strong from work in the fields, easily pleased the eye. He could see that very well for himself.

They met three days later, by chance. Tiernan stayed at the inn when he came into town, and Evan visited the inn several times a day to provide ice and receive food for himself and Mantheof as they worked. Evan stood at the counter, waiting for their bread, cured ham, and cheese, when a warm voice sounded from behind him.

“So there you are.”

Evan jumped and turned, but his excellent memory identified the voice before he made contact with Tiernan’s dark eyes, the same shade brown as his hair. “Excuse me?” he asked, summoning his calm and hiding his surprise when he realized they stood with less than a foot between them.

“I’ve been meaning to meet you,” Tiernan said, his handsome face alight with a warm smile. “I saw you my first day here. You were buying cloth at the textile shop; looked like the good stuff, in from Isabelline. I wanted to meet you then, but I had a great deal to do. And, of course, everyone treated you with great deference. I could tell you’re someone important.”

Evan felt at a loss for a moment, but words came quickly enough, along with a smile edged with delight that he hadn’t been the only one noticing someone from afar. Evan knew himself to be attractive, but no one ever commented on it. “I’m Companion Mantheof.”

“So I’ve heard. . . . Unless you mind that I asked people, in which case I have no idea who you are.”

Evan laughed. “I don’t mind, if it doesn’t bother you that I know your name is Tiernan Ennas.”

“Hmm.” Tiernan made a show of considering this, then nodded a bit. “You have me at a disadvantage. I know what you’re called, but not your name.”

Adrian would like that he doesn’t think of “Companion” as my name, Evan thought idly, before introducing himself properly. They chatted politely until Evan’s food was ready. The next morning, when Evan arrived at dawn to create a block of ice for the inn, he found Tiernan already downstairs, sipping tea with milk. They spoke again, longer. Then at lunch, then dinner. During the day, Evan saw Tiernan about town, buying supplies and selling as well, but during his regular visits to the inn, Tiernan always managed to be there. For two weeks they met in this way, and Evan, ever a student of human nature, couldn’t ignore that politeness gave way almost immediately to flirtation. Nor did he fail to notice and appreciate Tiernan’s mastery of the art, or his own natural and previously undiscovered talent for it.

He began to wonder, as the days turned into weeks, if Mantheof had been sincere in his implication that he might take a Cildisc lover.

When Tiernan started touching him, seemingly casual brushes at odds with the heat in his dark eyes, the ever-pragmatic part of Evan decided to simply ask his master what he’d meant by his words in the Center bedroom where they’d met and bonded.

“I meant if you found a Cildisc man in whom you were interested,” Mantheof told him, in that way that managed to keep Evan from feeling utterly embarrassed about, essentially, asking permission to have sex, “you could do as you please, as long as you do so discreetly. Women would be out of the question,” Evan nodded; Companions weren’t meant to have children with random women, though he’d heard tell some did with a person of their master’s choosing, “as would a Miltsian of either gender.”

“I don’t want any master other than you,” Evan offered, and Mantheof acknowledged his sincerity with a smile.

“I feel the same way. It’s been a blessing having you here.” For a moment, Mantheof hesitated, started to say something, and stopped. “Do you have-no. Never mind.”

Evan cleared his throat. “I don’t know. But I can be discreet.” He didn’t intend to make it appear that Mantheof, who held the respect and love of his village through warmth and care rather than demonstrations of power, had been cuckolded by his own Companion.

“I . . .” Mantheof seemed to search for words, unusual in a man so calm and assured. “I wish you luck then.”

“Thank you,” Evan said, his eyes lingering a moment on his master before he turned and took his leave of Mantheof’s bedroom. They shared an apartment above the meetinghouse, but not a bed; Evan slept at the other end of their rooms, in a smaller bedroom he had been allowed to decorate as he saw fit.

Evan had permission, desire, and a man who desired him. His heart thundered, and their flirtations began to move from the main room of the inn to small alcoves and the inn’s garden with its pleasant little pond, where words could flow freely and Tiernan’s touches grew more familiar. The day Evan knew they had to find a place even more private than the willow behind the inn, Tiernan kissed him for the first time with a slow stroke of his tongue in Evan’s mouth and one strong hand cupping a growing hardness between the young Companion’s thighs.

They didn’t meet in Evan’s room. Tiernan pressed for it, teasingly asking about the magistrate’s apartments and after Evan’s own space, but Evan managed to deny his body and set his feet as stubbornly as Adrian ever did. “Everyone will notice if I take you in there,” he argued, chin set. “No one but Magistrate Mantheof and myself ever step foot in the apartment, and the gossips would start wagging their tongues right off. I’d never hear the end of it.”

“I never knew you were afraid of tongues,” Tiernan smirked, before leaning in to trace his own around the curve of Evan’s ear.

“I’m not.” Evan’s eyes fluttered half-closed a moment. “I just don’t want to sneak you into my rooms under the watchful eye of that troop of old biddies who sit and chatter all day right outside the door to the Magistrate’s house!” The Gossip Patrol, as Evan tended to think of them, loved to watch the comings and goings of Mantheof’s meetings, and the magistrate’s apartments were immediately above the meeting house.

“So you have more than one?” A light nibble sent Evan’s mind wandering for a moment. He’d celebrated his eighteenth birthday in Renweard, but his body seemed to want to insist that he was still ruled by the constant arousal of youth.

“Yes.” Evan pulled his head back to offer a flirtatious smile of his own. “But the bed’s small.”

Tiernan laughed, a gleam in his dark eyes as his fingertips slid, just barely, into the waist of Evan’s pants. “That sounds promising. Especially if you . . .”

Dark red brows rose over green eyes. “If I what?”

“Never mind. I’ll know soon enough.”

“You’re awfully certain that we’ll be meeting somewhere.”

“I am,” the older man affirmed, and then his hands slid to cup Evan’s buttocks, his tongue stroking again into Evan’s mouth. Evan moaned. A handful of stolen kisses between two boys who knew nothing of technique, at least in actual practice, hadn’t prepared him for Tiernan’s demanding tongue tangling with his own, tracing the lines of his teeth. “My room then?”

“Your room,” Evan agreed breathlessly, more than a little worried that he might die of unfulfilled desire if they didn’t get to the business at hand soon. So to speak.

“Good,” Tiernan murmured, and Evan felt the lips curve against his own as a finger slipped to press between, rubbing at the cloth. “I’m looking forward to it. I’ve wanted to see you.”

Tiernan’s room was one of the smaller in the inn, tucked in a back corner of the first floor If his mind hadn’t been so clouded by curious lust, Evan might have stopped and wondered a moment; he had seen Tiernan step down the stairs during their previous meetings. But all he felt was a flash of appreciation for the fact that this room had access from the inn’s rear garden, allowing the older man to pull him in without having to sneak through the main dining area, and pin him neatly against the wall.

“Evan?”

Evan shook his head a bit, clearing the cobwebs and laughing softly at how quickly he seemed to be able to lose his mind with just a bit of attention. “Yes?”

Rough fingers slipped under Evan’s shirt, pushing it up. Obligingly, cheeks burning in an utterly unfamiliar way, Evan lifted his arms above his head. Tiernan slipped the shirt up, but not entirely off; instead, he left the cloth bunched around Evan’s wrists, pinning the Companion’s hands above his head. Evan nearly protested, but a hot mouth closed on his pulse point and sucked softly, and he felt himself relax against the wall. Tiernan wasn’t holding him hard, only loosely. “I’ve heard stories, Evan,” the older man purred, his tongue vibrating minutely in a way Evan had been taught could feel good, but never had the opportunity to feel.

“About what?”

“How much have you done? With a man?” Tiernan’s tongue darted over Evan’s lips, and they parted a bit in invitation. “You’re a Companion. This can’t be your first time. How much do you know?”

Evan laughed, his head falling back against the wall with a soft thump. “I know more than I’ve ever done,” he answered with a little grin. “Dozens of techniques and hints that I’ve never used.”

Tiernan smiled slowly and took a step back. As Tiernan’s hands went to the tie at his own waist, Evan let his arms fall and slipped off the shirt, dropping it to the side. The older man dipped a hand into his trousers, stroking along the arch of his erection shaping the cloth. His other hand rose, a rough-tipped thumb tracing the soft curve of Evan’s bottom lip. He barely slid the tip inside, wetting it on the young Companion’s tongue. “Show me what you’ve learned,” he murmured, his voice all under laid with a soft, beguiling purr.

Evan had been carefully tutored in recognizing what his master wanted, but instinct and desire served him just as well. With an unfamiliar awkwardness, Evan fell to his knees – a bit too literally, if the faint crack of his knees against the floor and a brief flash of pain were any indication. He ignored these as minor irritants, however, and licked his lips nervously as he leaned forward. He hesitated a moment. Purely intellectual discussions of what men could do to please each other might lead to more embarrassment than anything that would make Tiernan come back for more. His brief paralysis was broken, however, when with a practiced flick of his wrist, Tiernan slipped his erection free, thick and dark and only inches from Evan’s nervous mouth.

“You want to do this for me, don’t you?” Tiernan asked, his voice and eyes seductively warm. The fingers of one hand tangled in Evan’s hair and flexed in a tiny push. “Used what you’ve learned on a friend?”

Slowly, Evan followed the older man’s urging, his lips parting as they met the head of Tiernan’s cock. His trainers’ instructions rang in his mind as he gently flicked his tongue along the underside, taking in the odd taste of salt and flesh. Keep your teeth covered. Use your hand to stroke until you’ve mastered the reflex to gag. Use your lips, use your tongue, use your voice. Above him, Tiernan’s voice came in grunts and pants, and his strong hands tangled in Evan’s hair.

“Good, yes-”

Evan hummed and shifted, trying to suck a bit harder. His jaw ached already - they never mentioned this in our classes - and Tiernan started moving his hips, making him struggle a bit. The hand in his hair tightened, pulled him off gently. “That’s good,” Tiernan purred again, running his thumb along Evan’s wet lips. “You’ll get even better, you’ll see. But for now,” his mouth quirked into a sensual grin, “let’s try something else.” He pulled Evan to his feet.

“Such as?” Evan asked a bit breathlessly.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Tiernan’s hands stroked over the curve of his ass. “You’ll like it.” With a predatory smile, he backed Evan to the bed, stripping the younger man bare as he did so. “Then we’ll work on that technique of yours.”

It hurt. More than he’d expected, really, though he told himself he shouldn’t have been surprised. But it felt good, too, when Tiernan slowed down and stroked just right. Then something spread up his spine, curled in his belly, and Evan thrust instinctively against the bed as Tiernan chuckled against the back of his neck. The older man’s clothes rubbed against his back and thighs with each steady thrust, then as the rhythm gave way to a hard pounding the slap of skin on skin made Evan so hard he whimpered and ground into the bed, back into the aching thrusts. Too soon, Tiernan froze a moment, then his hips jerked warmth inside as Evan bit at the pillow he’d buried his face in. “Nnnn-”

“Here, up a bit.” Tiernan didn’t quite pull out as he lifted Evan’s hips and with a few expert strokes brought the younger man to climax. The feel of Tiernan’s hand on him wasn’t terribly unlike his own.

When Evan finished, Tiernan withdrew. The head felt bigger now, and caught in a way that made Evan his and squirm uncomfortably. Tiernan chuckled and wiped his hand on Evan’s side, rubbing the semen into his skin.

“. . . I did all right?” Evan asked as he felt the older man’s weight shift off the bed. He rolled over with a wince, lifting his hips to keep from grinding into the soft bedclothes.

“Very well. I knew you’d be a natural.” Tiernan pulled his small clothes back into place and tied off his pants. His eyes were heavy-lidded, his stance sated. He leaned down to press a kiss to Evan’s mouth. “And you’ll only get better. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“You’re leaving?” Evan blinked at him sleepily.

“I have to get back to work, Evan,” Tiernan reminded him with apparent fondness. “And so do you. Tomorrow? For lunch?”

Evan smiled, then nodded. The farmer left, leaving Evan to stretch slowly across the bed in slow contemplation of the event.

The next day, it hurt far more, but Tiernan assured him he’d grow used to it. He promised they’d take a break afterward, do other things that felt nice, but Evan barely came at all and winced with every step for the rest of the day. When he saw the Companion the third day, Tiernan begged forgiveness and made up for his over enthusiasm with kisses. He then lay head to groin, and Evan melted in the heat of a mouth on his erection even as Tiernan instructed and demonstrated how Evan could use his own to bring the older man the most pleasure.

Soon after, Tiernan had to return to his farm. Their good-bye took the form of Tiernan bending Evan over the desk, too impatient to make it to the bed. Evan had still been a bit tender, but he’d learned to relax, to let Tiernan in, to stroke himself and push back to keep the angle right. Tiernan came inside as he always did, nipping at the back of Evan’s neck and murmuring that he’d be back in town in a few weeks, asking Evan to wait and smiling when the Companion gasped his assent.

When Tiernan left the next morning, Evan wondered if he’d fallen in love.