Something Extra - Hungry Heart - Ch. 7 (Patreon)

Chapter One  / Chapter Two  / Chapter Three  / Chapter Four  / Chapter Five  / Chapter Six 

Chapter Seven – Let’s Cuddle!

Long tables had been arranged inside and outside the Tinker Inn and Rory was busy serving the townsfolk, who all appeared to be present. Toru smelled roasted meat and his stomach roared, drowning out for a moment the happy noises of laughter and cheerfulness. 

“Hungry?” Varg asked and squeezed his shoulder.

The damned mutt had walked with them like that all the way, and Toru was a bit miffed over not being able to be by Duril’s side. What if some of those ugly people tried something funny with the healer? His instincts told him Varg wouldn’t let that happen, and Toru was right there, anyway, but he needed a reason to be pissed at the wolfshifter. 

The problem was that he didn’t know how to deal with the contradictory feelings he felt toward Varg. On one hand, without a doubt, he was an insufferable mutt. But he was also a strong, muscular man, who was, Toru had to admit even if only secretly and to himself, very handsome. Also, not a man. A wolf who could jump him and make him submit, something that Toru didn’t care to admit.

Varg was stronger than him. They could go head-on against each other in a fight. But the wolfshifter had the power of experience and age on his side, and Toru was frightened by the idea of losing. Back when they had first met, Varg showed him his strength and Toru had had to run, tail between his legs. If Duril found out about it, he wouldn’t like him as much, and that was not something Toru wanted to live with. All his lovers liked him because he was the strongest, so he had to make sure Varg wasn’t getting any ideas about the healer. 

“I’m going to sit next to Duril,” he announced, instead of replying to Varg’s question. 

“Of course,” the wolfshifter offered affably. “As much as I’d like to hang out with you two, the guild master will saddle me with the tedious task of giving a speech.”

Toru snickered. “Did he train you already? Ouch.” The small slap upside the head took him by surprise. “Why did you do that?”

“You’re being a naughty kitten, and cats need discipline if they want to be house pets.”

Toru bristled. “Who wants to be a house pet? Don’t put me together with you.”

Varg leaned closer and whispered in his ear. “I just saw you and Duril playing house. I bet you want him to make a pet out of you. Maybe scratch you under the chin and keep you on his lap.”

That image wasn’t that bad, but Toru didn’t begin to believe that Duril could hold him on his lap in tiger form. Without having met many tigers, Toru knew he was big among his kin. “I’m no house pet,” he said through his teeth.

Varg chuckled. “We’ll see about that, kitty. It looks to me like you’re about to be tamed.”

“Not by you,” Toru retorted. 

“I haven’t had the time to play with you properly. But rest assured that it will come. And then I’ll have you purring with delight.”

The nerve on that mutt was unbelievable. Toru wished for the time necessary to devise ways of putting Varg in his place, something that involved fangs and claws, but the wolfshifter pointed them to two seats that appeared to have been saved for them at what looked like the table where the most important townsfolk sat. 

Varg walked toward the two people sitting at the head of the table, greeted them, and took a place by their side. Toru could tell that the old man in the middle had to be the mayor of Whitekeep, while the fierce-looking one at his right was the guild master. Duril confirmed his guesses, murmuring to him in a low voice. 

The mayor stood with some difficulty, but neither Varg, nor the guild master offered their support. Toru suspected that the mayor wasn’t the kind of human who asked for help willingly. 

“Whitekeep gathers today to celebrate its heroes,” he began in a tremolo. “We’ve been blessed with times of peace for decades now and our memories of war have grown dim. Many of us don’t remember when we fought …”

Toru nudged Duril gently. “Is the mayor going to talk about history from then up to this day?” By the way the people around them were already sighing, that was a good guess.

“He can take up to two hours,” Duril said.

Rory and his helpers were busy filling everyone’s plates. The young innkeeper gave Toru a smile and a wink as he placed a juicy piece of pork steak in front of him. Toru gazed at it forlornly. 

“But don’t worry,” Duril added, after thanking Rory. “The guild master will sweep in and ask Varg to give a speech. They figured that scheme out a while ago and it’s the best solution. Everyone stays awake and the food doesn’t get cold.”

Hmm, so that was why Varg had to give a speech. It was for a good cause, he thought, as he stared at his plate, and his stomach cried for that steak and it to get acquainted.

“We would love to hear more about old times, mayor, but Varg, the hero of our latest battle, has a few things to say.” That was the guild master, stopping the mayor from condemning everyone to two hours of hunger followed by plates of cold food.

“Of course, of course,” the mayor agreed, although somewhat reluctantly.

Varg stood up, a bit briskly. Look who was hungry, too, Toru thought with satisfaction. “Thank you, mayor,” he said, “for letting me address a few words to everyone. I’ll keep it short since I know well that hard battles make people hungry.”

A small collective laugh followed. Toru could read relief in that laughter, too.

“This victory of ours,” Varg boomed in his strong voice, “wouldn’t have been possible without some brave residents of Whitekeep, and also without a stranger who came to us and lent us his strength and courage. I want to pay tribute to a few of the people who fought bravely.”

Varg mentioned the people who had died while defending the town, and everyone fell silent. The solemnity of the moment even made Toru’s stomach behave. The wolfshifter talked about honoring the dead, and Toru could tell everyone was moved to tears. Some people were crying, they might have been relatives of those who had given their lives. 

Toru hadn’t been scared of dying often, but those black rocs had driven that fear into him like nothing else. He could call them stupid birds all he wanted, but something foul and mysterious had come with them to Whitekeep.

Varg paused for a few moments of silence, and then he proceeded to praise the townsfolk who had proven their bravery during the battle, as well as the mercenaries who had happened to be there. He promised that they would be compensated handsomely. 

“And let’s not forget about our healers, and one in particular, who offered not only his gentle hand but also his sharp wit in our fight against the enemy. Duril, please, stand.”

Toru could tell that Duril was anxious as he stood. 

“From this day on, the mayor and the council agree that you should have a shop from which to sell your potions. Your healing and quick thinking saved us, and you deserve the same consideration as the rest of the healers in Whitekeep.”

By how still Duril was, Toru could tell that he was overwhelmed. A few murmurs could be heard.

“That’s the mayor’s appreciation and goodwill. Now here’s a bit of mine,” Varg said in a hard voice. “If anyone is caught insulting Duril, I will see to it personally that he’ll find himself short of the tip of his tongue. And if he raises a hand to throw a rock or hit Duril, I will break that hand.”

The murmurs stopped. Toru grinned and looked at Duril. The healer looked terrified as if those threats had been addressed to him. Toru took his hand and held it.

“I left the best for last,” Varg said, after allowing Duril to regain his seat.

“My own shop,” Duril barely managed to whisper, and Toru squeezed his hand. 

“You deserve it. And it’s not like they won’t make you work for them.” Toru tsked. “Some coin would have been nice.”

“Toru,” Varg called.

Toru didn’t like to be commanded, but for Duril’s sake, he had to play nice. He stood up, shoulders straight, and crossed his arms over his chest. If that town didn’t know what a true hero looked like, they were about to find out.

Varg smiled seeing his confidence, and Toru grinned back. “Through skillful strategy, power of will, and strength of arm, Toru finished the flock of birds threatening our lives. He lured them to the poisonous lake and tricked them into falling in. He almost gave his life on this quest. Now, I’ll let the guild master and the mayor to express their gratitude.”

“You’re one of us, lad,” the guild master said shortly. “The doors of the guild are forever open. Any equipment you may need, come and get it. I’ll personally see that you get everything you wish.”

Toru nodded. He liked the guild master. He looked like the kind of human who didn’t like long speeches and beating around the bush. 

The mayor followed. “And we, the town, welcome you as one of us, as well. From today on, you are a Whitekeep resident, and I have the pleasure of offering you a house --”

“I don’t need one,” Toru said brightly. 

The mayor stopped, confused.

Toru realized that he needed to smooth things a bit. “I live with Duril for now, under his roof. Unless he wants that house --”

“No,” Duril whispered and waved his hand, as surreptitiously as he could.

“He doesn’t want it,” Toru said matter-of-factly. “I don’t plan on staying around here long. So it would be a waste to give me a house. But give it to one of the families whose men had died. There must be someone more in need of a new roof over their heads than me.”

That was met with a wave of appreciative sounds from the townsfolk present.

The mayor bit his bushy moustache. “At least, the purse we prepared for you … you’ll take that, right?”

“Yeah,” Toru said. “I like coin. More like the food I can get with it.”

Everyone laughed.

“Speaking of which, I’m famished. Can we eat now?” he asked brazenly.

The mayor smiled. “Yes, we can eat now.”

Toru exchanged one quick look with Varg. Something in the wolfshifter’s eyes told him that he shouldn’t believe that he would be able to get away with everything. There was a challenge there, in the dark eyes, but Toru was willing to accept it. Even if Varg scared him a little with how strong he was, Toru needed to prove himself, and challenging the wolfshifter’s authority was one way to do it.

***

Duril felt in a daze. His own shop! He knew that it wouldn’t be something big or fancy, but he already had plans on how to organize the space, where to put the stomach sickness potions, and the braces he made from bark, and the poultices that could take away headaches. There were so many things he needed to think about.

Varg had scared him with the threats he had made at no one in particular, and yet at people Duril knew. He only hoped that it wouldn’t bring him more grief, and that the townsfolk would start to see him as a healer. Maybe Varg hadn’t meant all that and just wanted to make sure that no one would harass him.

The only thing that had made his heart squeeze painfully had been Toru’s admission that he didn’t plan on staying in Whitekeep. It was a truth he had already known, but there had been one hope, a tiny one, that the beautiful stranger would like it there so much that he wouldn’t want to leave soon. 

Toru sat on his bed, and his languid eyes didn’t fool Duril. His heart beat faster, and he sat gingerly next to him. Whatever Toru wanted, he had promised –

A hand rested on his shoulder, making him flinch. He wasn’t some naïve virgin, so what was wrong with him that made him react in such a fashion to a simple touch?

“You know what I’d like right now?” Toru asked, and his voice was as smooth as honey.

It didn’t matter because Duril would just say ‘yes’.

“I’d like to cuddle,” Toru declared, taking him by surprise.

Cuddle? Duril felt relieved and disappointed at the same time. “Sure, let’s cuddle,” he said, hoping that his bright tone didn’t sound fake.

Apparently, some of his inner conflict was felt by Toru, but also misinterpreted. “Don’t worry. I’m going to take it slowly.”

There was solace in that, Duril thought, although he was pretty certain that at least one part of his anatomy didn’t quite agree. For now, it was better just to cuddle.

He yelped when Toru rammed his head into his shoulder. Moving the arm, he allowed Toru to rest his head against his chest. Truth be told, he didn’t know a lot about cuddling, as no one had done that with him before. They began moving on the bed, soon becoming a tangled mess of limbs.

Toru was on top. He grinned and looked down, and Duril felt his bones turning to melted butter all over. “I’m too big for cuddling, right?”

“I think we can work something out,” Duril offered eagerly.

He managed to move – how, he didn’t precisely know – until his back rested against the head of the bed. Toru immediately found enough room and placed his arms around Duril’s waist and his head on his chest.

Duril was overly conscious of Toru’s naked chest resting against his nether parts, and although he was properly covered, he still feared that some of his excitement might begin to be too obvious. 

Toru sighed in what sounded like satisfaction. “The food was so good,” he commented.

“Rory is a wonderful cook. I don’t know how there’s so much life in that little body of his,” Duril replied. He was starting to feel more comfortable, and a sweet drowsiness began to creep in. With his hand, he caressed Toru’s hair, enjoying the feel of the smooth strands between his fingers. 

“You’re a more wonderful cook,” Toru replied. “Your food is better.”

Duril laughed. “I’m not jealous of Rory for being a better cook than me. It’s his job, just as mine is healing.”

“Yeah,” Toru admitted. “You’re an awesome healer!”

Duril cleared his throat. If Toru kept on complimenting him like that, they would end up in a compromising position soon enough, and Duril didn’t know if he had it in him to initiate anything. That left him in a pretty frustrating state. So, he changed the topic. “The mayor and everyone were impressed with you. I’ve never heard of anyone being compensated as handsomely as you were.”

“What? That fat purse?”

Toru’s lack of appreciation for money had been surprising at first, but by now, Duril was used to it. “And to think that you gave away the house! Everyone in Whitekeep must be mad about you.”

Toru shrugged. “I don’t care. I didn’t do it for them.”

Duril continued to stroke Toru’s hair gently. “You’re more generous than you think.”

Toru tightened his squeeze around Duril’s waist. “I mean it. I did it for you.”

Duril’s heart skipped a beat.

“All right, and for me. Those birds pissed on me, and I had to show them.”

“Pissed on you?”

“Just a way of saying. When I went in the morning before the attack to find some work, that mutt Varg took me along, to get rid of some birds.”

“And you had to deal with the rocs?”

“They were only a few, compared to what came over the town later. But they did a number on me, and Varg and I barely escaped.”

There was a short pause. “Anyway, I showed them. And you can have that purse. I’ll make other money while I’m here.”

“No, no, I cannot take your reward,” Duril protested.

Toru squeezed him so hard that he was starting to lose his breath a little. “And I say, you can. So that’s that. Your belly is so nice, it’s like a pillow.”

Duril didn’t have a good reply to that, but Toru’s soft snoring convinced him that one wasn’t needed. His eyelids grew heavy, too, and he fell asleep with Toru in his arms. This cuddling thing was really pleasant.

***

“What’s there to do around here?” Toru asked directly, after stepping through the door to the guild.

The guild master stared at him. “So young and full of vitality.” He let out a raucous laugh and patted his belly. “Everyone’s taking a breather, now that the danger is gone.”

“You came to work,” Toru pointed out. He couldn’t admit that he was disappointed that Varg was nowhere in sight.

“I guess you have a point, young man. Do you want some equipment? You look like you’re traveling light.”

Toru shrugged. “I don’t need armor.”

“Tough skin?” The guild master raised an eyebrow. 

He needed to tread lightly so that he didn’t reveal his secret by accident. There was no point in leaving suspicions behind; humans were like the weather, they could change their minds any time.

“Yeah. Better give me a quest. I’ll handle it.”

Duril had woken up early in the morning, excited by the prospect of making new potions and taking them to the shop provided for him. Toru didn’t want to get in the way, and he had plenty of restlessness of his own to worry about. The best way to get rid of it was to get going. It was already amazing that he had managed to stay in one place for more than a couple of days. Strange circumstances notwithstanding, Toru knew that he should have moved along by now.

What stopped him was not easy to explain. The lie he told himself was that the strange scent no longer bothered him, and he needed to allow some time to pass so that maybe he could feel it again. But he had promised Duril he would take his time, and that meant he couldn’t leave, not just yet.

And it wasn’t just Duril, with his chocolate brown eyes and warm touch that kept him there. Toru wanted to see the insufferable mutt again, and maybe challenge him. They might have been partners while fighting those horrible birds, but that didn’t mean things were quite settled between them.

Ever since he had been a cub, Toru had lived with the need to prove himself. Even if it was only play, he had a deep need to prove his strength over others. So far, the mutt had been playing with him, and now that there was peace in Whitekeep, he would get to do that in return.

“I don’t have anything to give you right now. Not to someone like you. I suppose that construction work doesn’t interest you. The people are rebuilding.”

Toru scrunched his nose. “Where is Varg?” he asked.

“He must be coordinating the workers right now. I’ll tell him you asked.”

“Nah, don’t bother.”

The guild master examined him for a few long moments. “How about you take the day off to relax? Even here, in Whitekeep, we know a few things about that. There are some hot springs not far from here. Take your friend, Duril, too. Don’t let him get overworked on his first day as a shop owner.”

Toru had it on the tip of the tongue to ask the guild master why he had allowed other townsfolk to harass the healer, but he wasn’t in the mood to waste his energy fighting an old man. “Good idea,” he said shortly and walked out.

A day at the hot springs? He could use some of that, and Duril would have to come along. With that conviction in mind, he sauntered into the street, after exchanging a few words with Rory who was already busy serving breakfast to the first patrons of the day.

***

“The hot springs? The guild master told you about them?”

“Yes. Let’s go. We need a break.”

On his way to Duril’s shop, which he found easily in the center of the town, Toru had already warmed up to the idea more and more. The thing was Duril, who was always so prim and proper, would have to get rid of his clothes to get into the water, and that meant Toru would have him where he wanted him.

He hoped for some heavy petting, and nothing more, since he had told himself he wouldn’t be impatient. But that was still better than nothing, much better actually, especially since Toru’s appetite was rearing its head now, and he wasn’t hungry for food. 

“But there are so many things to do here,” Duril protested, albeit meekly.

“Let me help you. What are these?” Toru snatched a potion from Duril’s hand, sniffed it, and then grimaced.

Duril took it back and put the lid on. “Don’t go around sniffing everything; you might end up putting yourself to sleep.”

“Let’s go to the hot springs,” Toru said impatiently. When he was with Duril, sometimes he felt so happy he wanted to shift and rub himself against the healer until their scents mingled. But he knew how important it was to behave. “You can start working tomorrow. And you work every day, anyway. What’s a little break?”

***

Duril knew that he had to be not precisely right in the head to accept Toru’s invitation, as the look of mischief in the golden eyes was unmistakable. The shop needed tending, and he wasn’t used to taking breaks. Also, he couldn’t trust himself with being around Toru without any clothes on. Nonetheless, his special guest wanted something, and Duril couldn’t deny him the pleasure.

After a few more weak arguments and Toru almost managing to drop a few potions while trying to help, Duril agreed. Seeing the other so happy made him feel a surge of excitement, too. He was determined to keep at least a loincloth on. What he was afraid of was the same thing that was exciting him, which only confirmed that his head was a mess.

Toru kept an arm over his shoulders all the way to the hot springs. It was a bit of a hike, but at least Duril had managed to put together a food basket so they wouldn’t starve while spending the day there.

The place was quiet, since the townsfolk preferred the heart of summer to go there, even if the water was as hot as their bodies could handle. Duril, with his tough skin, didn’t mind the cool air much, and Toru looked like someone who wasn’t bothered by the cold, either.

It was such a beautiful day, too, with not one cloud in sight. It was rare, and such a blessing after the hard times they had just lived through. Duril placed the food basket on a branch, high enough so that it didn’t become bait for ants and other critters, and took in the steam rising from the natural pool. The water gathered here from a small stream, and the surface wasn’t troubled by anything but the occasional bubble. The gases escaping from the bottom weren’t poisonous like the lake, and Duril believed that they contributed to making one’s skin smooth, and mind relaxed.

“We’re here,” he said.

He was splashed right at that moment by Toru jumping into the pool, stark naked. Duril caught a glimpse of golden skin and closed his eyes automatically. As much as he liked to believe that Toru wanted him, he didn’t want to get his hopes too high for fear of being disappointed. 

“Get in, too.”

“All right,” Duril agreed and began to shed his clothes, stopping to fold each of his garments neatly. 

“Take that off, too,” Toru said, pointing at his loincloth. “I’m naked. It’s not fair.”

Duril sighed and obeyed. He covered his manhood with his only hand and stepped carefully into the water. There were a few steps made of granite for those who wanted to ease into the water without jumping from the edge. 

Toru swam toward him and circled him. Duril felt overly self-conscious. The water was high, up to his chest, and the steam was enough to conceal his nakedness, but he still felt very naked with that strong body making waves around him.

“What do you have there to hide?” Toru teased.

He surprised Duril by grabbing him from behind and sneaking his hands around his waist. This time, it looked like Toru didn’t mind taking his tricks a bit further, and Duril wasn’t sure he had it in him to say ‘no’. He needed to remind himself that he had made a promise, too. So, when Toru’s hands snuck lower and covered his hand, he didn’t object.

“So smooth,” Toru murmured into his ear. 

Duril gasped, as Toru’s fingers moved against his manhood that was apparently much more honest than he dared to be. The soothing purr caressing his ears wasn’t helping, and he found himself gasping softly and trembling, despite being submerged in hot water.

“I’ll hold you,” Toru promised and gave his ear a naughty lick.

His feet slowly left the muddy bottom of the pool, and he floated, Toru’s arms tight around him. It was hard to believe the changes happening to him and in him; only a few days before, he had thought his life would always be the same, dull and chipped like the blade of a knife tried too often against stone. 

And now? Now, strong hands kept him afloat, and he allowed himself to dream. Toru wasn’t pushing forward, preferring to hold him like that and nothing more.

“I’m so happy I came here,” Toru whispered.

Duril kept his eyes closed. “To fight a flock of black rocs and be forced to broom the floors at Tinker Inn?”

His teasing was met by a low chuckle. “No. Although that was pretty exciting. Not the part with the broom.”

“I’m sure,” Duril whispered.

“It’s nice here. You’re nice,” Toru continued. 

“I just happened to be the healer who took care of you first.”

“And? Why does that matter?”

“You’re grateful,” Duril replied.

“Hmm.” The purring returned, and Duril couldn’t help but think about how right Varg was to call Toru a kitty. Although, he could tell that his exceptional friend was far from simply that; if anything, he was a tomcat who knew how to charm his way into anyone’s heart. 

He didn’t have to try so hard with Duril, though. His heart was already won. And the fact that he could feel something hard and relentless poking him from the back was assurance that, at least, his surrender would be met gladly. 

“I know a lot of ways to prove my gratefulness,” Toru added, eliciting another small shiver from Duril.

“You saved us all. I believe that covers anything you might believe you owe. Actually, everyone is indebted to you.”

“I don’t care about everyone. I care about you.” Toru’s stubbornness was doing funny things to the pit of his stomach. There were butterflies hiding there, beating their wings, wanting to get out.

“And I care about you,” Duril replied, in all honesty. 

There was a short moment of silence between them.

“When do you plan to leave?” Duril asked, tentatively. He hated to bring it up, but it would be good for him to know how much of being close to Toru he had left.

“I need to do something first,” Toru replied.

“Oh. What is that?” 

Toru was paddling using his legs, so they were floating in slow circles. Duril was already used to the sensation of skin on skin. The real question was how he would get used to being without it, once Toru was gone.

“I have to make you want me,” Toru replied and let out a giddy laugh.

“Really?” Duril didn’t know how he had it in him to make himself sound so unaffected.

“Yeah.”

“And then you’ll be on your way?”

“Not right away,” Toru said. “Hey, I know, how about you come with me?”

Duril couldn’t believe his ears. “Come with you? Where?”

“Anywhere. Have you ever been outside Whitekeep?”

“Yes, when we fought in the big war.”

“The one the old man was talking about?”

“Yes.”

“How old are you?”

Duril fell silent. Of course, given his orcish blood, he didn’t age like humans. He could be considered somewhere in his thirties, but the truth was that he had lived for more than that. Somehow, he felt like lying to Toru, although that was no longer possible.

“It doesn’t matter,” Toru added, when he hesitated to say anything. “You’re about Varg’s age, right?”

“Yes,” Duril replied. “Something like that.” He didn’t have the knowledge or life experience the wolfshifter was known for, but the comparison made him feel more at ease.

Toru bit his ear playfully, making him yelp.

“What is it with you and ear biting?” Duril chided him.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, but --”

But the truth was that the butterflies in his stomach were doing even more funny things when Toru teased him like that. 

“How is it now?” Toru began to munch on his ear, but without using his teeth. 

Duril shuddered. “Toru,” he whispered meekly.

“Come with me,” came the plea.

“I can’t,” Duril replied. “I would just slow you down. I don’t know much about the world, and --”

Toru suddenly became rigid. Duril turned his head and saw him scouting the edge of the pool with focused eyes. 

“I heard something,” Toru whispered. “There’s someone here.”

He scrunched his nose in displeasure, and Duril wondered what that could be about. That is, until he noticed someone standing a few feet away from them. Now, that explained Toru’s reaction.

TBC

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