Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/277135. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: M/M Fandom: Original_Work Additional Tags: Cliche, Community:_smut_fest Stats: Published: 2011-01-01 Words: 2217 ****** Echoes ****** by kkscatnip_(autohaptic) Summary A young person needs the assistance of one of the Wonders to save their sick mother. The 'Wonders' are personifications of those constructions of Ancient History. Notes Written for smut_fest's fantasy round. In the heart of the city called Babylon, there lived a boy-- a Wonder-- called Babylon. He did not live as you or I might, but existed outside of life, an exception to the rule. There were other cities and other Wonders, but this was my city, my Wonder, and hopefully my salvation. It took nearly six months for me to be granted an audience with Babylon, during which time my mother's health went from bad to worse. My younger-brother Nasir promised to care for her in my absence, for all that he was only ten he was the only option; we had no money for an asus to tell us what herbs to use or an ashipus to banish the demons in her lungs. "Go," mother wheezed when she saw my hesitation. Nasir smiled, although I could see weariness around the edges of it; the wheezing was not easy to sleep through. "We'll be fine, Enki." I left for the palace and the Wonder it held unsure whether she would be alive by the time I had my audience, but determined to help her either way. The Wonder could help her spirit on to the next world or cure her, and I would spend the rest of my days a slave to pay for the service. Trying not to think about it was an exercise in impossibility, but I attempted it anyway. It was not too high a price to pay, to make Nasir not lose his mother at such an age. (To have myself not lose her either; sixteen was not so old as it once had been.) The only thing I had with me was a letter that stated that I had been granted an audience-- or that was what I had been told it said, anyhow, and when waving it at the guards granted me entrance and directions inside the palace I supposed that I had not been lied to. I had come expecting waiting, but there seemed to be none. I could not bring myself to speculate what had caused the six-month waiting period to begin with, if it was this easy once I got inside. I dared not ask questions for fear of the answer being that I was not worthy because I had asked a question. "State your purpose clearly, and the Wonder will make his decision," the guard outside the door said, with the air of one repeating ritual words. "He will also pronounce your payment." That was all I needed to know, but it was precious little information, and the lack of knowledge made me feel clumsy and inept as I stepped into the beautiful room. There were plants everywhere, growing thickly around a path that was made of bricks composed of some sort of material that looked like gold. Perhaps gold itself, but that seemed... unlikely. "Babylon?" I called into the jungle of trees and vines. Water trickled somewhere in the background, but I could see none as I continued along the path that wound its way through the garden that grew in the middle of a palace. Keep walking, a voice whispered in my mind, sounding not much older than my own and at the same time as old as the stars themselves. A gazebo had been constructed where the path ended, and there were benches all around the edges of the circle and a stone pedestal in the center. Babylon hovered a few inches above the pedestal. He was beautiful in the strangest way imaginable, completely naked and unashamed of it. I was not normally attracted to men, but his features were androgynous enough to make me pay attention: something about the thickness of his lips, his cheekbones, and the gentle curve of his jawline. His skin was especially dark, with perhaps more of an olive undertone than was strictly normal. His hair was like leaves in the shade, and hung to his chin in dreadlocks that resembled tiny vines and moved in an unseen breeze as he looked at me. It seemed impossible that he was older than me, and yet I knew that he must be. But it was the way of Wonders, being outside of time as they were. "Enki," the Wonder-- Babylon-- said. I heard his voice in my head as well as aloud, like an echo. "Sir," I said respectfully and bowed. It didn't even occur to me to think it strange that he knew my name. He shifted, standing and hopping off of the pedestal, though he was still inches off the ground. He walked on air the way that the rest of us might walk on sand, though, and touched my shoulder with the utmost gentleness. "Call me Bylo." "Bylo." I bowed again, then straightened when his fingers came to rest on my shoulder again. "I have come because-- my mother, she is very sick. There are demons in her lungs, and they steal her breath away." For long moments, Bylo said nothing. He simply looked at me, his hair floating as strangely as his body, and then tilted his head and smiled. For all the world, he appeared to be a carefree boy, but I knew better than that. "Will you help me, sir? Bylo. I-- whatever your price is, I will pay it gladly." "You would surrender yourself to me?" I could feel Bylo's amusement as if it were my own, but I knew it was not. It was separate, another's, but there in my head none the less. And alongside it was a dimly shining beacon of hope. "If that is what pleases you, yes, I would surrender myself to you." Bylo raised one eyebrow, disbelief written on his features clearly. "Surrender your body?" "Yes," I breathed, for I would, and willingly too. He was beautiful; fate could conjure worse things for me than to engage in lovemaking with Bylo. "And what of your soul? Would you offer that to me as well?" That dim light of hope seemed to be growing brighter. I could hear and feel it in his voice. A life of servitude had been what I came here expecting, so offering it cost me nothing. I nodded. "Yes." Bylo smiled. I felt his joy washing over me, felt the pure glory of it like a physical thing. "I thank you for your gift, Enki." And he kissed me, cupping one hand over the back of my neck and drawing me closer to him. He felt real enough under my fingertips, against my lips. Wet and firm and a little bit wild in the way that cities were not. I kissed back as best I could, but felt woefully inadequate next to his apparent experience. He did not appear dissatisfied when we broke apart, however, and that beacon of hope was wide and growing, the lightness of it overtaking other emotions. "You haven't done this before," Bylo murmured against my lips when he broke the kiss. I shivered at the feeling of the words, the utter approval in my mind. "I-- I have looked after my mother, these past three years-- there was no time for a wife." He nodded, expression well-pleased. "It is a good thing. It is what I needed." The words didn't make sense, but that, I thought, was the way of Wonders. And besides that, Bylo was kissing me again, deep and with his hands working at my belt. He removed it easily and let it fall to the ground, then slid his hands into the bottom of my tunic up and up until he was pushing the coarse, undyed material over my head and letting it fall to the bricks. I whimpered at the feeling of his fingers on my nipples, at the twin sensations as he squeezed and rubbed. Bylo smiled broadly. "You like it. Good. That makes this enjoyable." Having sex with someone who didn't enjoy it didn't seem like fun, so I could see the purpose to his words. I opened my mouth to respond, though I had no idea what to say in all honesty, but the only thing that came out was a moan when Bylo cupped one hand around my cock. Which was very very hard. "Give yourself to me, Enki." Bylo whispered the words aloud, but in my head they were loud, drawing all my attention, demanding that I do exactly as I asked. So I did. I let him push me toward one of the benches and unfasten my trousers and lower himself down onto my prick. The urge to touch him was too strong to ignore, too strong to resist. I found my hands gripping his hips, doing to his nipples as he had done to mine, cupping his neck, tugging at his hair. All the while he rode me, dark and beautiful and wild, a hand on the back of the bench to steady himself as his back arched more, more. (I said it, over and over: "More, more.") The pace was indescribable, fast but slow, hard but gentle, and desperate all the while. I could feel it in my head warring with the hope, such need that it nearly felt cruel, felt like agony. "Say that you are mine," Bylo ordered, with the tone of one accustomed to being obeyed. I hesitated, not because I didn't want to but because it was difficult to find my breath, difficult to find my wits with him still riding me the way he was. Up and down, slick and tight and hot. And over it all was that relentless, frantic need. "Do it, Enki, say you are mine." "I am," I gasped, and my hands returned to his waist and I pulled him close to me. I felt infused with that recklessness; made bold, able to do anything and get away with it. He did not argue and in fact moved with my urging, pressing his chest to mine. Insistently his fingers pulled the small hairs at the back of my neck and he kissed me, deep and hard and possessive. I might have come; I might have shouted. I had no idea either way, because everything went suddenly quite black and I was no longer aware of anything except for the deep, sated sort of pleasure in my mind. Bylo's pleasure. The black thread snapped suddenly, and the world was there once more. I was sitting on the pedestal for some reason, only I wasn't quite sitting on it; I was floating above it. "I'm glad you survived," Bylo said. I looked to my left and there he was. But he was me; he was honey-skinned rather than olive and his dark hair hung in loose curls to his ears, and his eyes were black and he was me. "You tricked me!" I shouted, and we both winced. The echoes with Bylo's voice had been pleasant; when I shouted it was anything but, instead it was jarring and made tears come to my eyes. Bylo shook his head. "First, do not speak any louder than I am speaking now. Ever. Your displeasure will be known in other ways, so there is no need." I scowled, but said nothing. "Second, I did not trick you. You are the Wonder now; you may heal your mother, or not, as you please. And I am mortal once more, in a body freely given." "How do I heal her?" I asked, speaking barely above a whisper. The echo was not unpleasant this time. "Will it so, and it shall be." Bylo stood, tilting his head to the side a little. He wore my body like a set of clothes; his mannerisms in my form. The end product was somewhat disconcerting, but he did not seem to notice any such thing. "You can check up on her, if you open your consciousness up to the city, but I cannot in any way recommend such a thing. Send a letter to your little brother instead, if you wish, but I cannot recommend that either. Keeping in contact makes it more painful when they die." "Thank you for telling me." I struggled to be polite, to act as I always had, but it felt empty, when we could both feel what I truly thought of the entire thing. Bylo bowed to me. "I am leaving now. The guards can answer any further questions you have." And just like that, he left, walking down the gold-brick path. I followed him for a way, walking on air as easily as I walked on the ground. It felt a little odd, but I would adjust to that I supposed. He did not stop at the door to converse with the guards, instead walking straight out like he owned the place. I walked unhappily back to the gazebo and the pedestal and climbed into my seat. I wondered, as I began to will my mother better-- the press of the demons on my mind was insistent and unpleasant and made me feel like a bath would need to happen soon, from whatever water source I had heard earlier-- how long it would be before I could bring myself to do as Bylo had done. Never, I vowed. A lifetime of servitude was fair; an eternity of servitude was not. Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!