Page 53 of A Subtle Scar
“Excuse me,” Lucy said. “I am shopping. If you wanted me to find out which of you Chandler prefers, I can’t right now because I am busy.Shopping.”
“No, it’s not that,” I said. “He left. This morning. We spent the night together, and he slept in our arms after he worked late into the evening, and then this morning he just stormed out.”
“Aah,” Lucy said, and I relaxed. It sounded like the Devil knew what was going on here. “My Nelly did that too. Only he generally failed to inform me he was leaving my bed, but I made a deal with him to correct that. It seems you’re already ahead of me if you’re being told by your boyfriend.”
Ronny crossed his legs and leaned back. He looked too satisfied with himself. At that point, I considered that I might be that relaxed too if I’d gotten my release last night, even more so if I’d been allowed it in or on our boyfriend. I would never be able to tell Ronny he was right about my blue balls.
“But what do we do now?” I asked Lucy.
“We wait, right?” Ronny said, and at last I heard some insecurity there. So he wasn’t as calm as he looked after all. Hah!
Lucy gave a short whistle. “It doesn’t hurt to follow him around. Chandler is a lot like my Nelly, so I will give you an extra piece of advice. I can mention that to Nelly later. He’ll approve. Just be sure to get Chandler so satisfied that it gets back to Nelly. He’ll be inclined to reward me for helping. Hmm. He’ll come to a changing room with me.”
“Lucy, what’s the advice?” Ronny asked.
“Yes, of course. Chandler is a lot like my Nelly, which means he considers his work as highly important, and while keeping your lover to yourself seems like the logical thing, it’s best to let Chandler work while you support him. I assume he sees a therapist. Make the therapist like you, then use magic to cover it up, and get the therapist to advise Chandler’s superiors he needs regular breaks, weekends and nights off, that sort of thing. I suggest that you make very sure Chandler never finds that out.”
I nodded, and Ronny’s head was cocked. “That seems like a good plan,” I said.
Lucy snorted. “Of course it is a good plan. It’s how I got my necromancer. Well, I got him by just being me a lot and showering him with orgasms, but never dismiss interpersonal skills. And charm all of Chandler’s friends, obviously. Those were three pieces of advice. If you cannot succeed with that, I doubt even the Dragon Mother will be able or inclined to help you.”
Lucy hung up.
“Right. We need to find him, find out who his therapist is, and befriend all his friends,” I said.
Ronny noisily drank the dregs of his tea. “Tiamat said something similar to me.”
“About befriending his friends?”
“No. About just being more myself.”
“Could you be more your showered self maybe? We need to go and find our boyfriend.”
Ronny looked at me thoughtfully. “Teleport me to my place. I need to get properly ready. And stop looking like a pent-up stallion in rut. What if Chandler thinks you’re only interested in places to put your cock?”
I did have a vested interest in those places, but Ronny had a point. Every now and then, like a broken clock, Ronny was right, and there was nothing wrong with admitting it.
“Fine. I’ll jerk off while you shower,” I said, took his hand, and teleported us to his place.
I teleported us to the living room of the first floor of Ronny’s tiny house on the West Coast. The old building sat on a hill, and there was a bus stop just outside the wrought iron gate of his fence, because of course there was. Between the front door and the garden gate, everything was growing as if he’d seduced an herb witch to help him out.
“I won’t take long,” Ronny said and hurried across the shiny parquet and up the stairs.
I’d only been here once or twice, the last time about three decades ago, and since then, things had changed.
If Ronny had ever had any roommates, he’d likely driven them mad. Not only was there no consistent design throughline, which was what my human decorator person called it, there also wasn’t any space. The black piano by the window was covered in some disgusting knit blanket thing, and on top of that, there were pictures, but also those dog dolls with the wobbly heads some humans liked, along with a waving cat figure and just too many other moving toys.
I walked over and pulled back a ball of the Newton’s pendulum, then watched as the ball opposite swung out and back, creating an even rhythm.
Those knickknacks weren’t all. At a glance, there were seven umbrellas, too many fancy bookends—although not enough to hold all the books, which piled up on the floor and most of the dining room chairs. The dining room table was laden with board games and puzzles, one of which was out and unfinished.
I chuckled to myself as I used my divine speed to complete the puzzle, which, disturbingly, was a lovingly drawn image of a cluttered Chymical Street in some picturesque fantasy town.
As I finished the last bit of the puzzle, an unrealistic basement necromancer’s office, I had an idea.
“Did you just finish my fucking puzzle?” Ronny said from behind me.
I turned to see him showered and dressed in fake leather pants that were so tight you’d need a shoehorn to get all the wobbly bits in, a black silk brocade vest, and a puffy-armed blouse. He’d braided the top part of his hair, which meant his ears and the dangly red heart earrings were on full display. He was also wearing a dusting of glittery eye shadow and lip gloss, and in my pent-up state, that gaudy package Ronny had turned himself into in less than fifteen minutes made my cock fill in my pants.
