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 Thursday. This week is Chapter Thirty-Six.
36th Night—Gimme Sympathy
The party disappointed Dhiar. Chana lost herself in the crowd, leaving the Incubus floating free and quite overwhelmed by the miasma of conflicting feelings in this group. Anxiety seemed the most prominent feeling in the place, fear, confusion, loss, nervous desire… there was very little of the pleasure that made up the stuff of his existence. It frustrated him.
As he turned to the doors that led out to the garden, he nearly collided with a man, somewhere in his early twenties surely; he had the glow of youth with only a slight tempering of maturity. Mainly it was in his eyes, with a depth that even the oldest in this salon did not share.
“Terribly sorry!” Dhiar held up his hands cheerfully. “Just needed a breath of air.”
“Air’s a valuable commodity. Come on.” The other man reached out to take Dhiar’s hand, leading him out with a tentative grin.
It felt so much lighter outside, a definite relief. Though the town-house where the party was held had only a small garden, it was enough of one to provide something of an escape from the stifling heat and emotional density indoors.
“I’m Merry.”
“You look it!” Dhiar beamed at his new friend. “I am Dhiar.” With a slight bow at the waist, he lifted the man’s hand and kissed it. “And flirty, of course.”
Merry was struck speechless for just a moment, then he laughed, cheeks a little pinker than before, eyes gleaming as they reflected the soft lamp-lights from the windows. “You’re a different sort of fellow than they usually have at their parties. I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
“You haven’t!” The Incubus spotted a little bench, made of wrought iron and wood, and led Merry by the hand to it, offering for him to sit first. “My sister took me along. I’ve just arrived in town, so she thought it might be something to get my mind off of… well, just a little melancholy really. It’s nothing too crucial.”
“But it still concerns you, right?” The other man sat, keeping his hand in Dhiar’s as the Incubus joined him.
“Yes.” Dhiar nodded a single time, leaning forward, gesturing with his free hand, fingers flowing in motion with strange grace. “I feel like… I don’t know. I needed a change of venue. And now I need a change of venue from a change of venue so I can forget about the change of venue.” He started to laugh.
Merry reached up, finally taking his hand back, and clapped Dhiar’s shoulder. “This is a pretty fair party, for these parts. But you looked like you were looking right through everyone.”
Dhiar wanted to say he had, but the explanation would have been too much for him. He didn’t want to go into it. Not there or then.
“I’m a keen judge of character.”
“You look it.”
A few more moments of quiet passed between them. Then, slowly, Merry leaned against Dhiar’s shoulder, resting his cheek against it and closing his eyes.
Dhiar turned his head, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. The man had a sweet scent, a pleasant scent. He had obviously slapped on some orange blossom water as his eau de toilette. It pleased the senses without being overwhelming or outright unpleasant, like some of the ambergris perfumes. There was a scent of some sort of styling medium in his hair, but it too remained light and inobtrusive.
And there, behind it all, was the scent of his body, of his skin, and it was clean and wonderful and mingled with the clothes he wore. Dhiar leaned closer, arranging his body just a bit, before leaning his head against Merry’s.
“It’s comfortable being with another fellow,” Merry at last spoke, breaking the silence between them. “It’s why I came to the city.”
Although it wasn’t really what Dhiar thought of as a city, not after Noctemburg. The place where he had met his sister definitely classified as one, but it was a smaller city, with a large amount of what would later probably become suburbs. It wasn’t so built up. There was a smallish area of downtown business and bustle, but it was also easy to escape that and come to more residential places. The countryside lay within barely minutes by car.
Dhiar reached his hand to Merry’s short hair and stroked through it, producing a happy little sound from the man. “So you came to the city to be with fellows?”
“Yes… you can keep doing that as long as you like,” Merry answered quickly. “Yes, it’s better than a little farming town. Sometimes I miss my family, but… I don’t think they’d have understood, anyway. It’s nicer here. More to do.”
“More fellows to be with!” Dhiar chuckled, lightly tracing his fingertips down the man’s cheek, over the line of his jaw. He noticed very well that a little bit of a curve remained of youth, and the jawline was not yet as strong as it would surely one day be. He could envision what his new friend would look like in only five or ten years: at his prime, a breathtaking example of manhood.
But now he was no slouch either. The Incubus found himself charmed by the earnest gentleness and uncertainty shining in Merry’s gaze. The man looked to him, unsure, and then he laughed, knowing he wasn’t being ridiculed.
Dhiar took his hand and raised it to his own cheek, pressing the fingers to his face. “You can touch me, you know. I don’t mind. Just between us…” he leaned closer, quieting his voice, “I’m here to be with fellows too.”
Merry’s face went red, his heart pounding in his throat. He leaned closer, keeping his hand on the other man’s cheek. His eyes closed and, almost trembling, he leaned up, up, just before Dhiar’s lips.
The Incubus pressed in for a perfectly chaste kiss. But, being exactly who and what he was, that was enough for Merry’s eyes to open wide.
* * *
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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!