"Loving Djinni"
Part 3
by Osiris Brackhaus & Beryll
- Orlando -
David's loft was all quiet and peaceful. After we had gotten back the previous evening he had almost been asleep on his feet. The shock of being buried alive, finding a djinni and getting whisked away to New York combined with two or three bottles of expensive wine proved to be just a bit to much for his body.
So I stopped trying to seduce this exceedingly cute, tousled man and instead allowed him to disappear into his bed. I was very sure that sooner rather than later he would wish for a night with me. No matter how much he insisted on keeping his next two wishes to 'do something good'. They all tried. None ever did. And I certainly wouldn't mind.
I had helped him out of the taxi that had brought us back to the tower he lived in and he had smelled just delicious. Obviously he was not the only one in need of a good fuck. I had literary been ages since the last time I had felt another warm body next to me.
So after making sure he had fallen asleep I had left his place again to 'cruise the city' - as they had called it on TV. It shouldn't be impossible to pick up a nice girl or boy with my looks and magical powers. I had not been disappointed. There had been such a wide array of clubs and bars and heaven knows what they were called these days, that I had barely been able to choose one.
And there had been even more enthusiastic potential sex-partners. They had practically thrown themselves at me till I had felt completely overwhelmed. One cute Nubian had even offered me a blow job in an alley way. What had this world come to? Didn't anybody care about the fine art of courtship anymore? I was starting to appreciate Davie's restraint.
So in the end I had wished myself back to the loft without taking up any of the offers. To take a screaming maiden from the house of her father and make her enjoy my touch. That was a game. Or to submit to a mighty prince and gain his trust, till you very able to put a dagger into his back. Or to simply court a reluctant mortal with all my charm, till he or she was dizzy with love. There just lies no interest in easy conquest. Better to wait for Davie making his wish.
So I sat down on the couch again, flipped through the channels on TV till I found a porn channel to find out if humanity had come up with anything new in the centuries I had been out of the picture and got comfortable. A nice night spend watching beautiful boys and girls shag each other senseless and lots of beer. Just like in the old days when the roman empire had been in full swing.
It turned out to be a long boring night. One of the nights where I wished djinni's needed sleep just like mortals. Must be nice to pass your time without actually being aware of it.
When the sun finally rose over the building across the street, the collection of beer cans and bottles on the floor around the couch was quite extensive. I had first drunk my way through all the modern kinds and at last returned to the good old egyptian original.
When I heard my master emerge from his bedroom I felt nothing but relief and quickly switched off the TV. I had started to feel seriously lonely without him. Not a good sign of my mental state.
"Morn.." he mumbled and came over to the couch. He looked utterly adorable, dressed only in cotton sleeping shorts and all sleepy and bedwarm. That man had a body build for sin. I wondered if he knew how arousing he was. I had known roman soldiers who would have jumped him on the spot.
But obviously he had no idea, standing there next to naked, scratching his blond mop of hair, yawning. "Did you drink all that beer?" he asked in awe.
I nodded. "I don't get drunk." I explained.
He let his gaze sweep over the cans and then over the earthenware bottles. "Seems you went through quite a comprehensive testing." he remarked, smiling sleepily.
"I believe in completeness." I said and couldn't entirely keep the desire out of my voice. He didn't seem to notice.
----
- David -
OK, I admit it, I had a glass of wine too much last night
for diner. Or maybe two.
When we came home, I was sleeping on my feet. No way I could have taken my
interest in my new flatmate any further. But then, being brought to bed by
a cute boy who definitely would neither rob you or get completely stoned on
your toilet was something that made you sleep very, very well.
And best of all, he was still there when I woke up in the morning! Another pleasant surprise I had learned not to expect in my latest relationships.
Aha.
So we already had a relationship going on. Very interesting.
Wearing nothing except his blue pantaloons and bracers he
was sitting on my couch, surrounded by a really impressive array of beer-cans.
And beer-bottles. And... well, jugs and pots that looked like having been
handcrafted by some primitive race. Many of them could actually have been
Egyptian if they had not looked so brand-new.
They actually might bring quite a nice sum if I helped them age in just a
little.
Grinning despite the fact that I could still hardly could open my eyes I asked:
"Did you drink all that beer?"
He just nodded as if there was nothing out of the ordinary with drinking I don't know how many liters of beer, saying:
"I don't get drunk."
Sure. That also explains why you can drink your own body's volume in beer without suffering of a ruptured kidney.
"Seems you went through quite a comprehensive testing.", I remarked, already more concerned about breakfast than about his inhuman nightly consummations.
"I believe in completeness", he replied, and though I did not understand how, he definitely managed to make it sound... sultry. Seductive. Sexy.
"Err", I said as I walked over to my open kitchen
that had been build into the lounge; scratching my head in a vain attempt
to distract me from thinking too much about how cute this little devil had
looked when he jumped to me under the shower yesterday.
Had it only been yesterday?
"You want your eggs fried or scrambled?", I asked. Gods, twenty-four hours ago, I didn't even believe in Djinni, and now I'm making breakfast for one. When you have to turn around to understand what happened yesterday, your life definitely moving too fast. Way too fast.
"What?"
"Sorry?"
"What about my eggs?"
"Fried or scrambled?" Still he was looking at me with this breathtaking look of cutest irritation. "Your breakfast?"
"You eat *eggs*?"
"Yeah – what's wrong with that?"
"That's disgusting!"
"In so far as I know, eating eggs was a widely spread habit in both Egypt and Rome – What's your problem?"
"That's just – icky! Don't you have any decent food?"
Oh cool. So he's not only a difficult, snotty little demon,
no, he's picky as well. Somehow, this spirit has got some very cute human
aspects.
But I have not hosted an array of complicated boys in my place without learning
how to make breakfast. And the hard way, but very well.
"So what about pancakes?", I offered a truce.
Orlando just cocked his head indecisively, saying: "Mhhh... better."
"Waffles?"
His face lit up like dawn, and my heart jumped in response.
"Now you're talking business, Davie!"
Gods, he is so fucking cute when he's happy, I thought as I turned around to get the waffle-iron out of the cupboard. I wish he could stay forever.
----
- Orlando -
As I had been waiting for him to finally get up for hours I went over to the kitchen as soon as he started to get busy to watch what he was doing.
"Why don't you just wish for a breakfast?" I couldn't suppress the question, although I most certainly did not want him to spend his wish on that.
He gave me one of his 'you are a bastard' looks but continued preparing the food in silence. Happy silence. I was rather sure he liked me. Not like in 'he wanted to fuck me through the mattress liked me' but really liked ME, despite all my little quirks. Weird mortal.
I sat down at the kitchen counter and watched him for a while. "Why don't you let your slaves do it?" Was my next question. Of course I had found out by now that slavery was outdated – stupid humans to abolish such a useful thing – but it was a sure topic to get him talking.
He obliged me nicely. "I don't have any slaves." he tried to explain calmly.
"Why not?" I inquired in well faked innocent interest. "You are a rich man, aren't you?"
"There is no slavery anymore." He tried another route. "I have employees."
I suppressed a grin and in a very good impression of annoyance I said: "Well, you keep me as your slave."
He looked at me in plain hurt and suddenly the joke was not funny anymore. "It's not like I bought you or anything." he said quietly. "I don't want you to be a slave." And he really meant it. Rats.
He turned around to face me fully. "Is there no way to free you?" he asked earnestly. "If it's a curse there much be a way to lift it, right? That's what curses are all about."
I smiled sourly. "Yeah, only it's not a curse but an evil spell and this is not a fairy tale but real life. It's supposed to last for eternity, you know. That's what the bearded freak had in mind. To have all powerful djinni to serve him forever."
His brows drew together in the cutest way. "The way you speak of Salomon somewhat differs from what is usually said about him." he complained.
"Ever heard the saying: the victor writes the history?" I countered.
"I still don't believe there is no way to set you free." he grumbled, staring at his steaming waffle iron thoughtfully.
"Why would anybody want to?" I sighed. "It's quite handy to have three wishes. So why skip the opportunity?" I couldn't remember ever having had a discussion like that with any master.
"Can I have a look at your bracers later?" he asked suddenly and I instinctively drew my arms towards myself. "Why?" I asked very guarded.
"To read the spell of course." he explained but that made him even more conspicuous. What would he want that for?
"What for?" I asked, almost snarling now. "To figure out how to bind me to you forever?" He tried to say more but I just shook my head. "Forget it. If you want to look at them you'll have to wish for it."
----
- David -
This boy managed to get me on the edge every time. How could
he be so... mean?
Yeah, bad experiences; I know. Poor traumatized little boy.
And I shouldn't think of him as a boy. After all, he had been personally bottled
by King Solomon the Wise, if I were to believe his story, and I bet even then
he hadn't been called a boy for centuries.
With a sigh, I decided that I would definitely need something salty if I wanted to get my slight hangover cured. So I took some bacon, put it onto the iron and watched it shrink. Maybe I should try another subject. He was so *very* touchy about his curse.
"Tell me, Orlando", I began as I poured some dough on the bacon, swiftly closing the lid of the iron. "Is there actually a limit to what I can wish for?"
"A limit? You only have three wishes, if that's what you ask for, but I think you knew that by now..."
Grinning sourly, partially to my Djinni, partially to the fact that I had once again managed to put far too much dough into the iron that consequently had started to produce a major mess on my kitchen table, I replied:
"And I thought you know that that's not what I'm asking."
Wiping away at lest some of the spilled dough off the table, I added:
"No, I mean, is there something like a limit in size? Could I just wish for... peace on earth? Forever?"
Cocking his head pensively, with the most breathtaking pout I had ever seen on a boy, he answered:
"Sure. It's not even that difficult."
"Oh really?", I said, only partially believing what I just had heard, though he seemed dead serious.
"Yeah. I mean – I'd just have to kill all humans, and this planet would be peaceful forever."
"Oh you – sneaky bastard!", I exclaimed, grinning widely at this mean joke, slapping at my Djinni with a kitchen towel. He dodged, glowing with mirth, giggling. "You little creep!"
Gods, I'm seriously falling in love with an elder man! And he's several thousand years older than me! And, on top of it all, behaving like a teenie!
Giddy with joy, I fished the first waffle out of the iron, draping it elegantly on a plate, and serving it to Orlando who was sitting on the counter opposite the table I was working on.
"Here you are. If you like it sweet, you might want to try it with some honey..."
But why did I ask? He was already pouring heaps of honey onto his bacon-waffle, obviously delighted at the prospect of it. Shaking my head, I started to prepare the next one.
"Do you always try to misinterpret your Masters' wishes? Or is it depending on your mood?"
Grinning fiendishly across his plate, his lips glistening with honey, he said:
"I'm not granting wishes because I want to. It's not my fault if you humans do not know how to express your desires correctly."
"I'm afraid that I repeat myself here, but I just have to say it again: sneaky little bastard!"
----
- Orlando -
He seemed to be incredibly fond of that expression. But I didn't mind. It wasn't like it wasn't true after all. Except for the bastard part maybe. Mum would have killed him slowly if she ever heard of him saying this. But mum was trapped in a beautiful blue glass-bottle somewhere else on this planet.
"Actually there are some things you can not wish for." I explained between mouthful of waffle. "Like more wishes or another djinni-lamp or true love."
That sparked his interest. "Why not true love?" he asked.
I shrugged. "Not within my power. Surely you know that tale – love being the strongest spell ever and all that crap – seems to be true. Can't help you with that one, son. But who'd want true love anyway. Love's a highly overrated thing anyway."
He blinked at me in surprise. "You think so? Have you been in love that often?"
Again I shrugged. "No, actually, never. Who'd want to be all stupid and woozy in the head?"
He almost looked like he was sorry for me. As if he had heard my thought he said: "That's sad. You've never been in love? That must be horrible."
The way he said it actually did sound horrible and I busied myself with my waffle. Better not to dwell on things like that. Or even better: strike back.
"Doesn't seem to me, as if love has made you very happy." I grumbled. "Though I can see that it probably made 'Karl' very happy." Just the right amount of seediness and he was crimson in an instant.
"Well... uhm... I... that wasn't true love." he tried to defend himself but I just grinned.
"Just shagging, huh?" I prodded a bit harder and
he blushed harder. But there was also that hurt expression again. Aha. Not
just shagging. So why was I now feeling I should rip 'Karl's' guts out for
bruising the heart of my sweet little barbarian. Not good. Not good at all.
But maybe a little curse of impotence on 'Karl' would help make me feel better...
"He was very nice, when we first met." Davie was trying to explain. He hadn't even noticed my mood swing. To fast for his mortal brain. "He was all sweetness and compliments..."
"Till he had you curled around his little finger." I completed the sentence for him and he stared down at his hands. "Well, don't worry, Davie. Everybody makes that mistake."
"You too?" he asked hopefully without looking up.
Hmm. "No, actually... no."
----
- David -
Now what was it that made me feel all dizzy about this little
demon? One moment, he's all sweet and lovely, and then he snaps at me without
any kind of warning.
But never been in love? Boy, that must have been very lonely millennia. Even
before he was bottled.
On the other hand, it had probably saved him from a lot of
sorrow. And yet I didn't envy him. What is the good of being an almost omnipotent,
immortal spirit when true love is the one thing beyond your supernatural reach?
Though I had to admit that it terribly pleased my romantic notions not only
to hope that there was something special about love, but to KNOW that there
was not stronger spell. That all could be conquered if the love was true.
I'm a hopeless case, I know. But in a way, that information did make my day.
That was, at least for some time.
Until real life caught up with me.
I cleaned up a bit, sifted through my mail, tried to retrieve my luggage that had been left behind in Cairo when I – when we had left in such a hurry.
I wondered if I should go back and pay another visit to the thugs who had tried to kill me off. Just the mere sight of me would probably send them running away like cockroaches. Would be a nice thing to see. But I decided against it. One shouldn't press one's luck too much. And I've had more luck already than I deserved.
Though my little personal demon could not refrain from trying
to coax another wish out of me, this time to shorten my troubles with the
Egyptian authorities who just didn't believe me that I just had to leave my
luggage behind when I got informed that my mother was seriously ill.
But of course I didn't do it. I should do something useful with it. Something
ethically commendable. Like healing cancer or things like that.
And it rankled me that he still tried to get me to waste my wishes. Did I
bore him so badly? Or was it just a very bad habit he couldn't drop so quickly?
Anyway, I didn't deserve this kind of trickery, and he should have learned
that by now.
I might earn my money with deals that were not-so-perfectly legal half of the times, but I was a very honest person when it comes down to relationships. I wondered if he even did consider what we had a relationship.
And it annoyed me to no end that he didn't let me have a
look on his bracers. I know my Hebrew isn't perfect, but not bad either, and
I might just have found a solution. Or at least faxed a transcription to my
friends at the 'Middle Eastern Manuscripts' – section of the National
Library. It might have worked.
And it hurt me more than I would have liked to that he did not trust me enough.
So I spend most of the morning buried in very mundane things, and then even left him alone in the loft to go shopping and do 'things'.
And while I was once again stuck somewhere in the hopeless
traffic of the town, I remembered him in his suit and shirt, as he had been
sitting opposite me last night, and I couldn't help but smile. He was lovely.
No way around that.
And he had valiantly fought off Karl, and probably just to do me a favor.
He could be so sweet, and I just wanted to believe that he was just so complicated
because he had been treated like shit, cursed and abused since such a long
time.
He was traumatized, and I really should act more sensibly.
And he had just looked so hot in his partially unbuttoned shirt...
Suddenly, I stopped, turning my car in utter ignorance of the wildly protesting traffic, intend on doing probably the most crazy thing one has ever done for a Djinni.
I went straight to Tiffany's and bought a delicate golden necklace for him that would just look fucking perfect on him if ever he wore such a shirt again.
I'm mad!
No, worse.
I'm in love.
----
- Orlando -
It had been one of the most perfect days I had spend in all my life. Not only that Davie didn't mind when I spend all of my time outside my lamp, he seemed to enjoy my company. Not that he paid me any attention or I him. He was busy trying to get his luggage, I was busy looking at all his stuff.
He had tons and tons of books with beautiful pictures of art and antic jewelry and statues and all that other stuff that history scatters over this world. And I was looking and looking and remembering and catching up. Arts had taken a rather weird turn in the course of the last century – as had taken music – and it was fun to get up to date.
The first thing I did when he went off for a shopping trip was to whisk his luggage over from Cairo. Yes, he hadn't wished for it. Yes, I was not behaving sensibly. Yes, I was spoiling him endlessly. What the fuck. I could still explain it away with the fact that his horrible Arabic had been grating on my nerves while he was on the phone. It was a favor to myself. Not to him. Sure...
Then – that annoying little fact taken care of – I explored his bedroom and found a very extensive collection of... well, let's call it 'special fashion magazines' under his bed. Lots of very beautiful boys in various stages of undress. I got comfortable on his giant bed and started to flip through, trying to find out what the male of today considered 'sexy' in other men.
The conclusion was simple and surprisingly limited. Ripped jeans and short. In all kind of colors. But that was basically it. I tried several versions, studying myself in the big bathroom mirror and in the end settled with a faded blue jeans consisting more of holes and rips than actual fabric. The shorts did look sexier but I couldn't get used to not having any fabric at all on my legs. It would be interesting to see how that affected him.
When I heard him come back I quickly stored the magazines away and wished myself onto the couch. He certainly wouldn't like it if I 'invaded his personal space' again. Weird expression. Isn't that what courting is all about? Stop that! I was NOT courting him! I was just trying to coax him into making a certain wish.
He came over to the couch and did exactly what I had wanted him to do. He stared at me open mouthed, almost drooling. And doing it he looked even better than I had envisioned. It always pays to be carefully prepared. It took him full three minutes to catch himself.
Then he closed his mouth with an audible 'thup'.
I smiled at him as charmingly as I possibly could. "Did you have a nice shopping trip master?" I asked, all honey and sweet boyishness.
He swallowed hard but then he smiled brightly. "Actually, yes." he said. "I bought a present for you." And he handed me a small, carefully wrapped box.
I stared at it in wonder. "For me?" The words, barely audible with joy, escaped me, before I could keep them inside. He must think me a complete moron. But he just nodded very happily.
Carefully I touched the bright wrapping. I had never received a gift before. Never. I mean, why would anybody get a gift for a djinni when they know that I can just conjure whatever I want. It had never occurred to anybody, that it was the gesture that might make me happy.
Gently I unwrapped the box and opened it carefully. It was a delicate golden necklace, draped fittingly on set red velvet. I looked at him with shining eyes. "Thank you." I whispered, close to tears with happiness. "That is very beautiful."
----
- David -
Oh gods, he liked it!
I could have jumped around my lounge and hooted like a little boy.
Yay! Yeeho!
He was so fucking cute, so absolutely adorable in his tight jeans and bracers and nothing else.
Hey, wait a minute. He definitely was catching up with fashion quite quickly. And, to say the least, very advantageously. I mean, the legs of his jeans consisted of more wholes than fabric, and I was just... staring.
"Umm, err", I said, trying to busy myself with something that would not end in ripping the little clothes he wore off his body and - well, you know. "Had a nice day?"
"Yep. 'Was cool."
Cool. Nothing about this boy was COOL. He was just hot, hot,
HOT. Even my palms started sweating, and they hadn't done so since - I couldn't
recall any occasion they had. I just felt as if my ears would have to burst
into flames every moment.
And Orlando was just lounging there, on the couch, looking so damn innocent
I just couldn't believe one bit of it.
"Actually", the Djinni said, " for a northern barbarian with a jewish name, you're running quite a greek household."
"Greek?", I exclaimed with surprise. Now where's that strange conception coming from this time?
"Well, Greek. You know?"
"No idea."
"Lot's of beautiful naked boys? Paintings, sculptures, pictures, magazines..."
Almost breathless with exasperation, I exclaimed:
"You sniffed through my magazines?"
"I, well, I..."
He blushed! I would have never believed he actually could blush at all - but he did. Gods, he's so sweet! OK, he had sniffed through the whole place while I had been away, and maybe even read my diary, but what the fuck? I wanted him to share my whole life, to be everywhere, every moment of my life, and in a way, this nosiness just endeared him all the more to me. If that was at all possible.
And now, he was sitting on the couch, his knees pulled up underneath his chin, looking so incredibly cute with his guilty smile and innocent eyes. He is an evil, tricky little monster, and I am more in love with him than I would have ever thought possible. And probably because of exactly these reasons.
"Yeah, one might call it a Greek household, if you look at it that way", I said, noting with a glowing pride that he had immediately put on the necklace I had bought him. "And I do not mind you sniffing around my place. Though I would have preferred if you had asked."
Orlando shrugged guiltily, yet smiled widely at me as he asked:
"Actually - why do you keep your treasures all in one room?"
"My - treasures?"
"The old stuff. In the room with the many shelves."
Oh. My studio.
"That's my studio. It's where I do most of my work."
"So you're no grave-robber?"
"I am no fucking grave-robber, bloody hell", I said, my wide grin matching his. Stretching out one hand, I said: "Come with me. I'll show you."
Still smiling, he took my hand, and we went over to my studio.
Hand in hand, like lovers. My heart was thumping as nervously as a colibri's
wing, but I managed not to faint. Barely.
"For example, you see this picture?"
"Yeah...", Orlando said hesitantly, looking at the abstract patterns with slight distrust.
"I bought it last year in Kiev, at an arts-college, for 28 dollars."
"Yes?", my personal little demon asked politely.
"Well, now this picture has turned into a veritable VanKreuken, and every specialist would agree on that."
"And that's a good thing to happen?"
"Well, it's worth close to thirty-thousand dollars now", I explained with a shrug.
My Djinni's head snapped around, his brown eyes staring at me with some kind of fascination I had never seen in them before.
"So you're some kind of magician as well?", he exclaimed with genuine excitement.
I burst into laughter, tears in my eyes.
"No, darling, no!" Oh gods, that was just too sweet. "It's got nothing to do with magic. Not really. It's just plain old craftsmanship."
"And a bit of criminal energy, it seems to me."
One should give this impertinent boy a thorough whacking
once a day. Or maybe twice.
I just started to tickle him.
Mercilessly.
----
- Orlando -
The rest of the afternoon past as peacefully as the day had started. Right after I had magically jumped out of his tickling attack, that is. Annoyed Davie no end. Very funny.
Two hours later we were both sitting at his kitchen table. He was going through a heap of papers he had told me were evidence that his forged pieces of art were in fact real pieces of art. What a strange way to earn money. He was not a grave robber. Had to give him credit for that. Just a thief with a very complicated field of work. Didn't matter to me. As long as he was rich enough not to have to spend a wish on riches...
I was reading another magazine, absentmindedly chewing on a spoon I had used to eat a bowl full of cornflakes. The advertisements were especially interesting. Lots of unnaturally beautiful boys and girls, grinning like idiots into the camera, holding this or that product, telling the world about their own incompetence. Mortals...
It was with sudden shock, that I noticed the top of the spoon was gone. It took me a moment to realize, that I had most probably bitten it of and eaten it in my mindless musing. I looked over at Davie, but he hadn't noticed yet. Should I just hide the offending spoon? It didn't even occur to me to just mend it.
Instead I said: "Uhm... Davie, I think I have eaten your spoon." Now I sounded like an idiot. But I was in the mood for stupid confessions. Obviously my decision had been right, because he looked at me with the same adorable expression in his face, he had had when I had put on the necklace.
He looked at the bitten-off spoon I showed him, then at me, then at the spoon again and then grinned. "Be my guest." he said, complete happiness in his voice. "Have another one."
Heavens, I could have eaten HIM then and there. I just looked at him, enjoying his clear blue eyes on me, the way his blonde hair shone in the light of the kitchen lamp, the way he slightly tilted his head and smiled at me as if he loved me...
Fuck.
Realization struck me like lightning. He did love me. Or at least he thought so.
I moved that thought around in my head, to find a place where it would feel uncomfortable. It didn't. My sweet barbarian master loved me. Now what was I going to do about that?
I had just come to something like an decision - how ever much it might frighten me - when he spoke again. Spoke the one sentence I did NOT want to hear now.
"Orlando, I have decided what my second wish is going to be."
And I knew bloody well what he was going to wish for. Why couldn't he have waited just a second longer? I would have given it freely. But now it would be just like with all my other masters.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Osiris Brackhaus & Beryll
go to PART 4