Hey hi all! Here is the birthday fic for my website’s 8^th birthday! Even though Ivan was born on Beltane (May 1^st) I thought I’d use it again so that this is kind of a companion piece for the other birthday fic ~.^

Now this fic is actually set after the events in Libertine. The only aspects of Libertine it spoils is Ivan leaving his kingdom in Alexei’s hands and taking up the mantle of Koshchey (and moving to the manor I’m writing about in “Holiday”) as well as eating enough of the magical fruit to share in Trey’s eternal youth. Some of you I’m sure saw that coming so it’s not a real big spoiler or anything. I’ve added explanations for other things in here as well so hopefully it won’t be too confusing ^.^

Also, this fic is for MadHatter who did that wonderful image of Ivan and Trey together that you can see up on my page (grins and snuggles it). Thanks a lot! I really do love it!

-Delilah

The Koshchey's Present

By: Delilah deSora

Trey sighed and glared at the closed door, meeting the gaze of the stone sentries and resisting the childish urge to make faces at them. The part of him that was more bird than human knew that the sun had set and it urged him to seek out the safety of the nest. In a few short hours the day would be truly over, having passed by without a single acknowledgement as to why it was special. Not that he hadn’t wanted to celebrate it but he’d woken to an empty bed and a hastily scrawled note telling of him his missing lover’s whereabouts.

He scowled and glanced down at the note, crumbling it for the fourth time in less than a candlemark.

“I’ll be busy for part of the day my ass.” He snarled.

For a moment he entertained thoughts of just going to bed but then the irritation of waiting all day for Ivan to hang up the mantle of Koshchey and leave his tower welled up. Rising he tossed the note aside and stormed up to the door. As his hand closed over the latch he felt the quick jolt of magic snake up his arm. The stone statues shifted, their sightless eyes studying him a moment before settling back in their places.

He was the only person other than Ivan they allowed to pass. Even Aubrey and Byely, Ivan’s two most trusted servants were forbidden from entering the tower. Normally it made Trey feel warm and appreciated, this night he pushed such feelings away as he stalked up the circular staircase, ignoring the storeroom and the library as he spiraled up to the top room.

Here, however, was a door he could not open on his own so he settled for pounding on it, his soft flesh doing little to shake the heavy portal to the sorcerer’s chamber beyond.

“Ivan!” He shouted, his voice echoing in the darkness below him. “Open this damned door right now!”

Inside the chamber, the sorcerer felt his concentration slip and he mentally snarled, quickly storing the gathered magic into the signals carved into the walls. A check of the wards he’d set about the house proved that there was no danger. He detected no anxiety in the voice shouting outside his door so he took his time, making sure everything was stored away so that he would not have to start the casting over again.

Wiping the oils from his hands upon a loose bit of fabric he bid the door open as he set about rearranging the ingredients upon the stone table.

“What is it?” He asked brusquely when no words were forthcoming from the open doorway, a bit of irritation at having been interrupted slipping into his voice.

The only answer he received was a sharp clicking sound that drew his attention to the doorway where his lover stood, arms folded across his bare chest, the faint glow of the stored magic made the small jewels of his sandals glitter as Trey’s foot tapped upon the black marble floor.

Trey’s face as a portrait of annoyance, his pale lips pulled down into a frown, golden eyes narrowed. He was adorned in red gems from the glittering earring in his right ear to the golden necklace that allowed him to chose his form, to the ruby set in his navel, held there with golden pins. Beneath that the largest of the gems sat low on his torso, a pair of golden chains gathered behind it. The top chain ran over his hips while the bottom hung lower, the diaphanous cloth that made up his only covering draped from it. The golden cloth was transparent, allowing him to see the legs encased within and only a small bit of thicker cloth hanging from the top hid the lowest portions of his torso from view.

Ivan hesitated, suddenly wondering if there was an engagement he’d forgotten for Trey only wore such clothes when they were out among the courts of the world and he played the part of a glittering pleasure slave. He could think of nothing, however, and it made the corners of his eyes pinch in confusion.

“Have I forgotten something?” He inquired, earning a sharp bark of laughter, though it lacked any humor from his lover who came stalking forward.

“Forgotten?” Trey demanded incredulously as he circled Ivan, “How could you have forgotten? You’ve only had a couple hundred of them!”

Again Ivan’s hands stilled on the magical tools. The small clue directed him to consider the day and mentally he tallied the lunar month until he came up with the answer. “Ah,” he murmured, shrugging it off and settling the crystal wand in its case.

“Ah?” Trey snapped, his hand coming down upon the goblet Ivan had reached for, forcing him to look up into his lover’s eyes. “You forget your own birthday and all you can think to say is ah?”

Ivan sighed and shrugged. “It is only a birthday. I do not care to remember them, let alone celebrate them.”

Trey caught his arm just above the elbow, drawing him closer. “Well I do.” His frown suddenly dissolved into a shy smile as he knelt, “Birthday’s aren’t about you, you know. They’re about people celebrating their happiness that you were born and brought into their lives.”

Ivan shrugged again. “It’s silly.” He replied tersely. “You can celebrate my being born and brought into your life every day for all I care. Now I have to get back to this. I think I’ve just figured out the proper triggers . . .” He paused, a finger coming to rest upon his lips as he considered something. “Actually you might be of help. Your power . . .”

A sharp tug on the robes he wore drew his attention from his thoughts and back to the man at his feet staring at him incredulously.

“Ivan,” Trey said, his voice heavy with irritation and a bit of dry humor, “I’m kneeling half naked on the floor and all you can think about is your little magic problem?”

A very small smile crept over the sorcerer’s face. “Well, you’ll still be wearing the same thing when we’re done.” He pointed out.

This seemed to be the wrong answer for Trey sighed heavily and stood, grasping him firmly by the arm and dragging him away from the table. “All right, you.” Trey growled, “You’re going to go downstairs, eat the food that everyone’s made for your birthday, then we’re going to go back to the bedroom and you’re going to open your present,” he paused to gesture at himself and the sensual package he made, “and then we’re going to have hot feral sex and, so help me, you’re going to enjoy it!” Trey paused, stepping so close to him that their faces nearly touched, “Or else.” He snarled darkly.

Ivan hesitated, always unsure of how to handle Trey’s occasional demands. He was obviously waiting an answer and the proximity of his lover’s body was certainly eliciting one from his own. With a sly smile Ivan reached about Trey’s waist, pulling them together.

“Why don’t we skip dinner and go straight to the . . . how did you say it? Hot feral sex?” He asked.

Trey’s eyes widened slightly and Ivan’s smile deepened. Tilting his head downwards he buried his face in the crook of his lover’s neck, biting at the skin there to raise a vibrant red mark.

Trey’s breath quickened and his hands tightened upon Ivan’s arms. More than a little breathlessly he replied. “I can live with that.”

Smirking against the red haired man’s neck Ivan let his hands slid lower, gripping at the heavy curves of Trey’s barely covered buttocks. His fingers teased the sensitive area between the backs of his lover’s legs, eliciting a groan as Trey pressed more firmly against him. Holding him in a possessive grasp Ivan’s tongue flickered over his lover’s ear as he freed a hand to travel up over the muscled back. He recalled a time when it had not been so smooth, when thick ropes of scars had scrapped against his palms. That had been a long time ago, before his mother had found such things unsightly on her pet’s human form.

Trey pulled back, playfully trying to capture his lips with his own, chasing away the dark memories. His tongue flickered against his lover’s sealed lips, begging permission for entrance; permission that Ivan gave. He felt himself harden as the kiss deepened, Trey’s tongue teasing his own, drawing it down into his lover’s mouth.

He knew his own eyes had gone dark with desire as Trey pulled back, staring up at him with swollen lips and a deep want plain to read upon his face. When he slid to his knees, his hands trailing down the dark robed legs, Ivan felt his own need spark for he well knew what such actions on his lover’s part meant.

Ivan toyed with the idea of taking him here upon the floor of his workroom, as he had so many times before, but then he focused upon his lover’s form and he discarded the thought. Such an expensive pleasure slave deserved to be taken in a soft bed bound with silken scarves, not flung down on the cold floor.

Ivan held out his hand. “Come.” He commanded softly.

Trey rose easily, years of practice allowing him the strength to stand without having to push up from the floor. It was a seamless motion, one that stirred Ivan’s appreciation for grace. He loved beautiful things and found in his lover a great wealth in it, especially when he embraced the role they both enjoyed.

Trey had learned to move silently and he did so as they descended the circular stairs, the only sound from him being the occasional clink of golden bracelets or hiss of cloth. Ivan played his role as well, ignoring the other man as he sealed the entrance to his workroom and library. The storeroom he left open for it had its own traps to catch the unwary. The door to the tower swung open with just a brush of his finger against the solid wood and he felt the sudden flash of sentience from the two guardians before they recognized their creator and settled back, stone statues once more.

The halls were silent though he could hear the murmur of voices from down below as servants went about their business and the captured princesses, payment from their fathers for deeds he’d done for them, speculated on their fate in the opulent sitting rooms he’d created for them. He sighed inwardly as a cacophony of giggles drifted up through windows flung open to allow in the night breeze. He found the girls a nuisance but Trey enjoyed their company for they helped wile away the usually dull hours while he worked in his casting room. He also had to admit that they were useful for their beauty could often silence the most outspoken of princes and kings, turning an enemy into an ally who owed him allegiance for providing him with a beautiful queen.

They weren’t all princess, though. Sometimes Trey found a wanderling somewhere, some girl stuck in a life she did not want. These he lured back and Ivan took care to find them a suitable match elsewhere if Trey couldn’t find some mooning minor noble who wanted to play hero and rescue a maiden. Sometimes these women staid on, becoming matrons of the household but he discouraged that for he knew the intense pain watching them grow old and eventually died brought his lover. Despite the occasional pleading he had broken his vow to keep the fruit that brought first eternal youth and then eternal life for only their own consumption three times.

The first time was for Byely, who had sworn to protect them with every breath, then second for Aubrey who’d grown into a man’s body only to discover that a life without a master to serve left him feeling useless. The final time had been only recently when his household had grown too large for Aubrey to manage and still serve him as his valet. They’d gone through a number of stewards, some trustworthy, others not, until Linden had come into their service.

Linden had come from a long line of stewards, had even begun his service in a king’s private manor, but he’d been forced to flee after being found in the prince’s bed. Publicly ridiculed he’d been working as a baron’s book-keeper when their paths had crossed. Aubrey had taken a liking to him, which was rare on its own, and Ivan had seen no harm in taking him in to fill the new vacancy.

Hawk-eyed and usually serious to a fault he’d done well, keeping both servants and spoiled princesses where they belonged. His only flaw had manifested itself in drawing Aubrey to his bed but in a household such as his it had not bothered him in the least. Even more pleasing had been Linden’s complete disinterest in Trey. He had interest in Trey’s form or coloring and that, more than anything, had lead him to agree to Aubrey’s plea to allow his lover the magical fruit that would take his body outside the flow of time.

So the five of them drifted through the constantly changing generations, hidden away in their home cloaked in the small valley of the mountains. The town over the next rise had come to terms with living so close to the Koschey and had even discovered that having his residence nearby kept potential raiders at bay. In exchange they provided their reclusive neighbor with food and, in Trey’s case, a place to visit when he grew restless and bored.

“You better be thinking of your birthday present and not whatever you’ve been working on all day.” Came the warning from behind him, making him realize that he’d paused at the door to his rooms and had probably been standing there stupidly for quite some time.

He laughed softly and entered, standing back to allow his lover to pass. Trey spared him a suspicious glance as he drifted by, heading unerringly through the common rooms to the bedroom beyond. Folding his hands behind his back Ivan followed, turning his contemplation to the material that flowed over his lover’s form and admiring the way it dipped low on the sides of his hips.

His smile turned smug and he lengthened his stride, easily catching up to the shorter man. Long fingers slid up into the short strands of red hair and Ivan allowed himself a moment of sullenness over Trey’s insistence to cut the long mane. This last time he had managed to have his way long enough for it to reach his lover’s waist and he missed the heavy mass of curls. But Trey had hated it and sulked until he’d given in and allowed him to have it cut again so that only the barest hint of curls was visible.

However it was still long enough for him to grasp a fistful, pulling his lover’s head back to bare his neck and making Trey gasp. He sat upon the edge of the bed, Trey coming to his knees on the floor before him, turning as he did so that they faced one another. Ivan’s fingers tightened, making crimson lashes flutter as Trey’s eyes narrowed.

“You’ve got quite a mouth on you, for a slave.” Ivan admonished, his free hand coming to rest over the pale throat where he could feel the strong pulse.

Trey’s lips thinned, his eyes lowering submissively.

Sharp nails, left long to aid in the measuring of ingredients, skimmed over the vulnerable skin before tracing the delicate curve of the slave’s lips. “Perhaps I should remind you of its proper task.” Ivan murmured, dipping his head to meet the lips with his own.

There was no insistent tongue teasing his lips this time and it took no coaxing to make the lips against his open as Trey fell back on his training, allowing his body to ravaged as his master chose. Ivan indulged in the action, pulling back as though breaking the kiss only to lunge forward again, Trey’s chin held firmly in his hand. He relished in his lover’s pliancy, taking a perverse pleasure in knowing that there was no action his slave would protest.

If Trey had ever harbored reserve for any sexual act it had long been beaten out of him. Ivan knew his father had started him upon the path, giving him a glimpse of true helplessness and pain but it had been Dedumil, the previous Koshchey who had started stripping away any pride or reserve Trey had once had. He too had taught him helplessness but, whereas his father had only taught him to recognize it, Dedumil had taught him to accept it, to know that there was no escape from it. He’d been stripped of his pride in Dedumil’s gardens and taught to accept what was done to him. Later, in the spartan room back in his father’s care, he’d learned the pain of disobeying. What Dedumil and his father had started Ivan himself had finished.

He’d never pretended to be the hero, to be the one to rescue the beleaguered slave and return to him his pride and humanity.  In his own way he was no better then the two men who’d tormented Trey before. What they had instilled in him, he’d polished, finessed. It amused him to have Trey as his lover but despite the freedoms he chose to give they both knew what relationship lived underneath the illusions. Even though he loved him, Ivan was not adverse to reminding him of his place, even with a lash if need be.

It had been a long time since Trey had forgotten himself. Ivan almost wished he would balk for, though he took no pleasure in the wary look that always came into his lover’s eyes afterwards, the part of him that was purely his father enjoyed the way the muscular back flexed when laid upon with the lash. Trey’s hoarse cries gave him a dark satisfaction nothing else did. It was heady and addictive.

Which was why he kept those desires firmly pushed back until an event had occurred that required him to doll out such punishment.

With a shake of his head Ivan realized he had drifted off into his thoughts again.

Unclenching his fist he straightened, smoothing the stray strands of hair back away from his lover’s face. “It’s a pity you’ve been so well behaved lately.” He lamented, earning a dry look that made him chuckle. “Ah well, I will just have to continue being vigilant and wait for your pride to make you stupid.”

“I’ll be sure to be ready to run when that happens,” Trey replied, turning his face to press a kiss to the palm of Ivan’s hand before golden eyes slid sideways slyly and he absently added the required, “master.”

Ivan smiled wistfully. “I will look forward to it. Now,” He gently urged Trey forward, leaning back onto his elbows as the knot holding his robe closed was carefully tugged loose. The air was cool against his body and he felt himself stir as Trey nudged his legs farther apart. Chaste kisses were pressed against the inside of his thighs, followed by stroking fingers as Trey worked his way inward. Ivan inhaled sharply as Trey traced the root of his desire with his tongue, leaving a trail of cool wetness in its wake and drawing all of his attention the delicious tension growing in his stomach.

He reached down, coaxing his slave’s head lower and shivered in delight as Trey turned his attention downwards, his mouth teasing the hanging flesh gently. Before it became painful, for he was terribly sensitive there, Trey moved upwards, his tongue tracing the hardening organ from bottom to top. Ivan pushed the red curls back, taking pleasure in watching Trey catch the tip in his mouth, his tongue bathing the flesh there with slow firm licks.

Trey’s hands gripped the tops of his master’s thighs, finger curled to remind himself not to grab at the organ in his mouth and hold it still as he swallowed more. He coaxed his throat into relaxing and accepting the invasion. Ivan’s fingers skated through his hair, making his shiver for they sensitized his scalp, giving him a measure of pleasure as he backed off, letting the blood darkened flesh slip from his mouth.

Ivan settled back again, emerald eyes closing and Trey set to work, swallowing until he could take no more before pulling back and sparing a could of licks to the swollen head. Reaching down he cupped the hanging sacs, brushing his thumb across them as he pleasured his master’s cock. Under the hand still resting upon his master’s leg he felt the muscles quiver, the only sign he ever received that his ministrations were having the desired effect.

He was just getting into it, trying desperately to coax the seed from the hot flesh between his lips when Ivan pushed him away. He bowed his head to hide the scowl, as the treat was pulled beyond his grasp and Ivan rose.

“Up.” Came the command and he obeyed, climbing up onto the gigantic bed they shared. Hands cupped his ass, long fingers brushing against the sacs that hung beneath his own arousal and he shivered as the soft fabric of his pants was stretched against his opening to accommodate the exploratory touch.

He lay down upon his stomach as the hands disappeared from his body, watching as his master pondered over the chest that sat at the foot of the bed. A few things were pulled out, though he could not see what they were and he dared not sit up for a better view. With a quiet sigh of impatience he gathered a thick pillow to him, pressing his cheek upon it. Drawing his knee a bit upwards he felt the thickness of his cock pushing into his stomach and he flexed his hips, thrilling at the friction. He turned his face into the soft fabric, letting it muffle his soft groan as he did it again.

A hand came to rest on his hip, a silent admonishment for his actions and he lifted his head in time to meet the kiss. The bed sank down as Ivan climbed up beside him and then over him, rolling him onto his back. He sank blissfully into the softness beneath him, his body cradled in the heavy blankets as Ivan devoured him, his tongue a demanding presence that teased and tormented his mouth.

A hand brushed against his arm and he lifted them without having to be told. As Ivan broke the kiss to lean upwards to tie his wrists to the metal ring set on the headboard he amused himself with arching up to kiss and lick at his master’s pale skin. Giving the knot a final tug Ivan sat back, smiling down at him.

Trey sniffed and arched sensually, his fisted hands tugging at the silk cords that held them immobile. Ivan’s smile turned into a smirk at the challenge he saw in his slave’s half lidded eyes. Ignoring Trey’s obvious wants he took his time divesting him of the jewelry. The earring and navel ring easily slid free, the holes closing quickly in their wake. The bracelets were trapped beneath the silken cords so he left them. The necklaces too he left on, the scarlet cloth one because it marked Trey as his slave and the golden pendant because without it Trey would be unable to remain in his human form and though Ivan indulged in many things, trying to make love to a shrieking bird wasn’t one of them.

Especially not when the human form provided his with such a feast.

The chain about his slave’s waist fell away easily, allowing him to strip off the garment and let it slid off the edge of the bed, as forgotten as the sandals once they were removed. Ivan rose and climbed from the bed, taking the time to pour himself a glass of wine and consider the glistening slices of fruit left on the table. Behind him he heard his slave shift and make a quiet hiss of impatience. Ivan smiled to himself and continued to ignore him until the man fell silent and still.

Lifting both wine and bowl he returned to the bed, setting the bowl aside. Gingerly he lifted a piece of golden fruit, drawing it along the carefully sculpted chest before following the trail with his mouth. Tense muscles quivered under his mouth and he turned his attention to one of the dusky nipples, swirling the fruit about it before savoring the combination of salty flesh and sweet juice.

Sitting up and drawing a leg under him he bit into the piece, feeding the other half to slave as he chewed and swallowed it. He could feel the fruit’s magic as it slid down his throat and settled in his stomach. From there it would course through his body, fixing whatever had aged and leaving him as healthy and young as he had been in the prime of his life. Gathering another piece he repeated the action, this time holding it to Trey’s lips as the man sucked the juice from it, his throat working furiously as he lapped the nectar.

He released the piece, his fingers lingering on his lover’s throat as Trey ate. Lifting the glass to his lips he drank and then set it aside. Bowing over the glistening lips he let the wine flow freely between them, Trey’s throat working under his fingers as he stroked the small ball of his adam’s apple.

Sitting back he fetched an object from the chest’s top where he’d left it, drawing the leather straps down his lover’s body as Trey’s eyes narrowed. With careful efficiency Ivan gripped the heavy cock, locking the straps about it tight enough to make Trey’s breath hiss through his teeth. With a superior smile Ivan spared a kiss for the violently purple head and fetched the second object.

The feather glittered in the feeble lamp light, its iridescent coloring making it flash like fire as he drew it over his lover’s eyes and lips. Trey closed his eyes and groaned as the primary he’d shed during his last molt tickled his skin, making him want to follow its trail with his own hands. Ivan watched the corners of his slave’s eyes pinch as he ran the feather over the straining cock, teasing a moan and a half formed plea from his lover’s throat. Trey flushed at the words and bit his lip, an unconscious show of nervousness that Ivan had never been able to completely break him of. Tapping the beleaguered lip with the feather Trey stopped and Ivan set the toy aside for another.

Alert to the small change in their game Trey bared his teeth at the object, pushing his head back against the pillow defiantly as Ivan leaned over him. The curved lips told him he’d played the part right and he continued to fight, turning his head away as Ivan tried to coax the bit between his teeth. His rebellion, however, was short lived as a hand closed about his cock, tugging it just enough to make him arch and gasp. The moment his mouth opened the thick leather bar was pushed between his lips.

He pushed at it with his tongue, teeth sinking into familiar grooves worn into it as Ivan drew the long reigns back behind his head and held them taunt, not allowing him to dislodge the bit. He snorted in frustration but was forced to comply as Ivan used the leather reigns to coax him onto his stomach and then up onto his elbows and knees.

His head was tugged back and Ivan’s nails skimmed over the edge of his collar, making him shudder as his master’s desire nudged against his ass.

“Good boy.” Ivan crooned, stroking his sides as though he were a skittish horse.

Trey threw his head back, trying to wrestle control from the man draped across his back but Ivan was unrelenting, holding onto the reigns until Trey had to stop, his chest swelling with breath as he panted.

Long nails ran across his back and sides, traveling down towards his hips and then across the swell of his buttocks to his opening. Ivan scratched lightly at it before pulling back a moment. When the fingers returned they slid into him easily, the oil left in their wake making him shiver in delight.

As always Ivan was slow as he prepared him, careful not to cut him with his nails as he stretched him and sought for the small nub hidden deep within his slave’s body. The pad of his finger brushed against it and Trey jerked forward, nearly tearing the leather reigns from his hand as his head bowed and he groaned in pleasure.

Ivan played upon that spot until Trey stopped trying to jerk free of him and instead sank lower upon the bed, his legs parting willingly as he pushed back, trying to get more the sensation. Pulling his hand away from Trey’s body Ivan dipped his hand in the shallow bowl that sat on the chest, coating himself with the oil before rising up onto his knees and bearing his slave’s entrance more fully. Under his hands Trey trembled, waiting.

He knelt there for a long moment, enjoying his power over the situation. That such a man would give himself to him so fully, indeed had no choice but to do so, made Ivan pant in desire. That this slave also held his heart and shared his love was enough to make his chest tighten in pain at the emotion it invoked.

Unable to deny his body’s wants any longer Ivan pushed in, coaxing the body beneath him to open. Trey’s body had been too well trained for too long to offer him any kind of resistance and he sank in quickly. Ivan stroked his lover’s back, savoring the feel of his body pressed so completely against Trey’s before giving in to the carnal instinct and pulling back only to drive into him again.

He straightened, pulling back on the reigns to draw his slave’s head back as they worked together to find their own releases. Trey used his bound hands as leverage to find the balance to thrust back on his down thrust, driving them both together with the audible slap of flesh on flesh.

It didn’t take long before Ivan hunched over the broad back, his teeth bared as he struggled to find the strength to pound faster and hard into his lover. Trey was a wild thing beneath him, a high-pitched keening escaping the confines of the bit. Ivan felt the magical shift beneath his fingers, not a true sign of Trey changing form but rather an inquisitive ripple as the firebird struggled to comprehend what was happening to its human form.

Then Trey twisted slightly beneath him, changing the angle of penetration and Ivan knew nothing else as bright lights blinded him and his body exploded in sensation.

He collapsed down onto his lover’s back, shaking hands pulling Trey’s swollen cock free of the leather bindings. He stroked the hot flesh soothingly and it shuddered in his hand, warm liquid splattering across his hand and Trey’s stomach. In the peak of his release he had let go of the reigns and Trey spat the bit out before falling onto his side, Ivan toppling over with him.

For a long time they lay together, panting as their bodies came down from the natural high and their muscles went limp. Ivan buried his face in the back of his lover’s neck, enjoying the heady scent of sweat and other things. Trey rolled over, burying his head under Ivan’s chin as he scooped the svelte form against him.

“Happy birthday.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to the hollow of Ivan’s throat. “It may seem like nothing to you but I am glad you were born.”

Ivan stroked the red hair, watching the colors shift in the frail light as he considered his lover’s words. “I suppose I am glad I was born too.” He replied, unable to keep the dry humor from his voice. “It certainly has proven to be an interesting life.”

In his arms Trey snorted but thankfully remained silent.

-The End-