Page 88 of Beyond the Ruby River
It opened to reveal Mahu. Real. In the flesh. Standing on Daka’s porch, his expression uncertain.
Daka’s breath caught, stolen as the moment stretched.
Neither of them spoke.
Daka stared at Mahu like a thirsty man viewing a mirage in the middle of the desert. As if what he needed most could disappear at any moment.
Was this real?
Mahu looked different, changed. His garnet eyes sparkled like fine jewels trimmed in silver. His skin still golden brown but a shade paler than Daka remembered. The crinkled age lines at the edges of his eyes had faded, giving him a more youthful appearance though he was nearly two thousand years older.
Mahu’s stare never wavered. He drank Daka in with a greedy glint flaring in his gaze. His body poised for motion but held still as a statue as if by sheer force of will.
Daka’s mouth hung open, his eyes must be wide as the river itself, and his entire body sizzled with need.
“Mahu,” Daka breathed the name on a desperate sigh. How he kept from clambering forward and climbing Mahu like a squirrel up a tree, he didn’t know, but his restraint was bound to shatter soon. “You came.”
“I came,” whispered Mahu, tone warm.
Even his voice sounded different, a smooth and melodious delight hovering in Daka’s sensitive ears.
At once, Mahu opened his arms, Daka leapt, and they embraced with enough force to knock the wind from Daka’s lungs. But he didn’t care. He didn’t need air when he could have Mahu.
Mahu took his weight easily. Daka wrapped arms, legs, and tail around his lost love, clinging like Mahu might vanish again at any moment. Tears threatened. His erection was forgotten. Muscles clenched, holding Mahu prisoner.
Daka buried his face in the soft skin of Mahu’s neck. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent there. No longer did Mahu smell of sickness or papyri, rather the aroma tickling Daka’s nose was lavender soap and freshly washed linen. But underneath that, still the scent of Mahu. Still the scent of home.
Daka breathed greedy gulps, and when he could resist no more, he licked the skin to steal a taste.
Mahu let out a low moan. “Dakarai, I’ve missed you so.”
Daka couldn’t respond to that. There weren’t words adequate enough to explain how he’d missed Mahu, for his longing, for how he felt now. No words at all. Instead he pressed kisses along Mahu’s throat and continued to suck in the scent of him so if he were ever deprived again, he would never forget his smell.
Tears escaped Daka’s lids to roll down his cheeks. The wetness soaked into Mahu’s blue linen shirt.
Chest to chest, with Daka hiding his face, he felt brave enough to ask the question that had plagued him since Mahu abandoned him.
“You left and never came back.” Daka’s voice shook as he spoke. “Why didn’t you ever come back?”
Mahu rubbed gentle circles across Daka’s spine. He kissed the shell of Daka’s ear. “Many reasons. They changed over time. At first, I was angry. I felt betrayed.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I should have apologized sooner.” Daka leaned back enough to risk a glance at Mahu’s handsome face. “Would it have mattered? Would you have come back if you knew how awful I felt?”
Mahu shook his head. “I wasn’t ready. And I understood why you felt you couldn’t apologize. I had to mourn the loss of my family all over again. I still believed they waited for me in the underworld, you see. I thought we’d be reunited, and when we weren’t, I lost them anew. I felt raw. My grief was fresh, and I thought, permanent.”
Daka’s misery knew no bounds. Emotion seeped from his every pore, heavy and full of shame. He thought he’d stolen Mahu from death, but really, he’d stolen death from Mahu. And even now, he couldn’t really be sorry.
Mahu’s embrace tightened. “Dakarai, shh, it’s going to be all right.”
Daka wanted to believe him, but what if it wasn’t? After all these years, he still felt young in Mahu’s arms. Full of hope. But his worldly experience had taught him to be skeptical.
Though he wished only to hold Mahu from this moment until forever, there was so much still unspoken between them. Enough hurt to flood the Nile twice over on both sides. The conversation looming before them felt insurmountable. The urge to ignore it all and drag Mahu to bed fought for dominance.
“Feed me?” asked Daka, giving into his nature and desire both. He knew they weren’t done talking, had barely even started, but if they could connect this way, the rest would surely follow.
“Are you sure?” Mahu’s rumble resonated low, uncertain. “I have apologies of my own to make.”
Hearing that was a relief. At least Mahu knew the hurt had cut both ways. “And I welcome them, but can I have you now? I need you. I can’t think straight.”
