Welcome to Incubus Tales: A Thousand Words by Hushicho. In Noctemberg, it is always night. Dhiar, proprietor and gay incubus, welcomes you to Phantasies, a very special shop. Sensuality is more than just Dhiar’s stock in trade, it is his raison d’être. NSFW.
A new chapter appears every Thursdays. This week is Chapter Twenty-One.
21st Night—Shadows of the Night
“You know, you really don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Dhiar reclined against Siros in the coach.
It was horse-drawn, but by no horses known to the dwellers of the surface; no, these were special steeds, just as the ones in Lothring’s place. Though these seemed much more lively. They simply were of the same stock as the vampires, the throngs of undead who had forged ahead into the uncertain darkness and made Noctemburg what it had become.
Dhiar liked the cabs. He was never really a huge fan of automobiles. He wasn’t good at driving them, though Chana seemed to like them. Siros’s presence made everything better, though.
The angel played his fingers upon Dhiar’s chest, smiling down at him. “Of course I want to. I asked to.”
This part of the trip always made his home seem more foreboding than it strictly had any business presenting itself. The shadows stretched, tall and long, on either side of the street. It always seemed as if, no matter what the time of day, whenever one vehicle clattered down the path, nothing else was within earshot. Everything went perfectly quiet, aside from hoof-beats and the turning of wooden wheels on stone.
But then it was past, and the lights of his home came through the windows. There were little curtains on the windows, though Dhiar had no need to draw them. The lights here ranged from warm, welcoming colours to lurid and neon, piercing the darkness with a bawdy cry of “notice me!” The club across the street always seemed much the latter, and try as Dhiar might, he could not settle himself into accepting too much neon for his own shop.
The distinctness, at least, set him apart from the nearby businesses. Whatever his opinions of the lights, they seemed to work for him. What crowds went to the club were drawn in by their own illuminations.
The cab came to a stop, and the door opened from the outside. Dhiar shifted to his feet and pulled Siros up, smiling to him and squeezing his hands in the angel’s. He leaned in for a soft little kiss before stepping down the little stairs provided by the footman.
After a handsome tip, the cab was off again, leaving the two before the shop. It wasn’t particularly lofty, just two floors and a roof terrace. It blended in as it could, but something about it stood out regardless. Dhiar watched Siros, a bit nervous that perhaps his new lover might actually dislike his home. Perhaps he would disapprove.
But the Incubus lived his own life, as always. If that was that, then so be it. He waved his hand to the door. “Would you like to come in? I live upstairs. The shop’s downstairs.”
“Please!” Siros all but launched himself at the door.
Dhiar laughed lightly to himself, a bit surprised. He pulled the door open, never having to worry about it. The shop knew him. It opened for him, and only him, when he wanted it to do so. “After you.”
Siros glided into Phantasies, eyes wide at the surroundings, at the accoutrements, all the décor… it almost overwhelmed him. On every note, he found it complementary to his own tastes. A smile, then a grin, slowly curled his lips, and he reached his arms to pull Dhiar against him.
“It’s marvellous,” he murmured, kissing the top of the Incubus’s head. “Better than I had even dreamt. It’s like I’ve been away from home and just arrived back after a long time.”
Dhiar closed his eyes, turning his head to kiss Siros’s chest, taking in the sweetness of his skin. “Welcome home.”
The angel rubbed his hand along Dhiar’s arm. “Will you show me your home? I mean, your living area? The shop is so wonderful… I can only imagine what that is like.”
“Of course!” Dhiar moved to the counter with the register, taking Siros by the hand and leading him behind the silk screen.
Through the doorway, up the stairs, past the posters papering the stairwell with naked, cheerful men, they went. Up to the little platform in front of the loft’s door, where Dhiar stepped out of his boots and helped Siros up with his soft shoes. Then they continued inside together, pressed close. Siros huddled his wings around the both of them.
He took in a deep breath suddenly, upon being inside the loft. Everything about it felt right. It felt like Dhiar, like holding him all night, being held by him.
The Incubus raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“It’s beautiful,” Siros answered, to the unspoken enquiry. “No, it’s more than that, but I don’t know a word to describe it. It’s wonderful! It’s… you. It’s so very you. It’s like being a part of you, being inside you… in a sense,” he hastily amended, cheeks going pink.
Dhiar only laughed so softly, placing one hand upon each cheek and gazing deep into his eyes, into those opal pools. Every bit of light twinkled and sparkled, iridescent, reflecting back into his own dark gaze.
“All you have to do is say the word.” The Incubus winked and kissed Siros again, before pulling back and drifting kitchen-ward.
It was almost addictive, kissing Siros. The angel had not been misleading about his previous occupation under a love-god. He had to have been. It was like Siros were simply a different kind of Incubus, well-versed and breathtaking in the ways of pleasure and affection.
He was, in many ways, an ideal lover and partner in intimacy. And so earnest! Dhiar had rarely had such a combination of experience and earnest innocence. They had still not intruded within each other. Dhiar could not resolve it with the feelings of the moment yet. It was still not time. Even if the comment enticed him, even if he desired it…
He glanced to Siros, who looked up and met his gaze instantly. It sent a shiver down his back. Dhiar’s eyelids lowered a bit more, his lips parted, and he felt almost touched in his most private of places.
Tonight… he would have Siros’s arms around him, in his own bed, and that would be enough.
* * *
About the author: From an early age, Hushicho held a special passion for storytelling. Throughout his life, he has worked in numerous media and various places in the world. He is the author of the long-running Incubus Tales webcomic, upon which this serial is based.
Welcome to the intriguing city of dreams, Noctemberg, where it is always night, and to Phantasies, a very special shop run by Dhiar, proprietor and gay incubus. Sensuality is more than just Dhiar's stock in trade, it is his raison d'etre. In Incubus Tales: A Thousand Words, Dhiar meets new loves, rekindles relationships, and bring his special brand of sexual healing to lovers and readers alike.
Also available in paperback!