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Pharamond stood at the entrance to the Palace of the Dreaming and looked up at the three guardians. They were enormous, imposing creatures but he had seen worse.
“Our lord is not receiving visitors at this time,” the wyvern rumbled.
“I understand, Guardian.” Pharamond gave a wide smile. “But could I trouble you to let him know that Pharamond of Babylon is here? I thought he might appreciate… an interlude. And I brought wine. I will go if he doesn’t wish to see me, but getting here was no mean feat, even for one as skilled at travel as I.”
“I will inquire.” The griffin went very still and Pharamond waited, gently tapping two fingers against the wine bottle.
The griffin blinked. “Our lord will see you. Follow the path of lights and do not stray.”
The huge doors to the castle creaked open. Pharamond bowed politely to all three guardians, and entered.
The temptation to open one of the many doors, or part one of the curtains he passed was great. It was not Pharamond’s first time within the Palace of the Dreaming, but the last time he had been here was thousands of years ago when he had come with other members of his pantheon and he had not been as well-acquainted with his host as he was now. Pharamond would have loved to get just a peak at Lord Morpheus’s home. What did the King of Dreams keep closest to him in this fantastical place? But, Pharamond knew, it was not worth the risk. Besides, if things went as he was hoping, there may be other opportunities. Perhaps he could even ask for a tour.
The lights ended in front of an intricately carved wooden door. Pharamond raised his fist to knock but before he could, Lord Morpheus’s voice sounded close by his ear.
“Enter, Pharamond.”
Pharamond spun around but he was alone in the hallway. He swallowed, gave the hem of his perfectly-tailored blazer a tug, fixed an easy smile on his face, and opened the door.
The room was sparsely furnished, and Lord Morpheus was seated in one of two straight back chairs by a low table. He was wearing a gray t-shirt and black jeans, his feet bare. It made Pharamond question his own choice of clothing, but he knew the cut of his blue suit was extremely flattering and he was aiming to impress. He gave a sweeping bow. “Thank you for agreeing to see me, Lord Morpheus.”
“You are welcome here, Pharamond,” Lord Morpheus said quietly, “though I confess that I do not understand the nature of your visit. What sort of ‘interlude’ do you speak of?”
Pharamond smiled and held up the bottle he had brought. “I was hoping to tempt you with some wine. It’s from Astrapalagica and I think it will be to your taste, if I recall correctly.”
Lord Morpheus gestured to the chair beside him. “Join me.” He waved his hand over the table and a decanter and two glasses appeared.
Pharamond repositioned the chair to face his host before sitting. “I thank you, Lord.” He produced a corkscrew from inside his jacket and used it to open the bottle with a practiced hand.
“Are you in some manner of difficulty, Pharamond?”
Pharamond paused his pouring to raise an eyebrow at Lord Morpheus. “Not at all. My business flourishes. I am prosperous and content. Why do you ask?”
“On a prior occasion when we drank wine together you were in need of some advice.” Lord Morpheus picked up his wine glass.
Pharamond took hold of his own glass with a smile. “I do recall, of course. Though that is not what brings me to you on this occasion.” He touched their glasses together. “To you, Lord. And to our continued… association.”
Lord Morpheus peered at him but inclined his head and accepted the toast.
They both tasted the wine and Lord Morpheus made a small appreciative sound. “This is quite pleasing.”
Pharamond felt a warmth in his gut and his smile widened. “I’m very glad, Lord. I would be happy to procure more from Astrapalagica if you like. Or guide you if you’d like to visit yourself. Just say the word.”
Lord Morpheus narrowed his eyes. “I will speak plainly, Pharamond. Why have you come, and why have you come in such a solicitous manner?”
Pharamond sat back in his seat and set down his wine glass so he could hold out both hands, palms forward. “I assure you that I have no designs beyond the pleasure of your company. I will swear it on the names of my pantheon if you like.”
“The pleasure of my company?” Lord Morpheus sounded skeptical.
Pharamond smiled warmly. “I enjoyed seeing you those months ago. It made me want to renew our acquaintance before another thousand years passed.” He sat forward, elbows on his knees. “And I… have heard some rumors lately.”
“Rumors?” Lord Morpheus’s perfect posture stiffened. “What sort of rumors?”
“Nothing scandalous, I assure you. Just that in the last few months the skies of the Dreaming have been dark and wind blown. I have no desire to pry, but I thought…” he trailed off, uncharacteristically hesitant under the weight of the black gaze.
“You thought?” Lord Morpheus prompted.
“I thought that you may appreciate some good wine and some conversation with an old friend.” Pharamond swallowed, hoping that his nonchalant tone adequately hid the beating of his heart.
He knew that time worked differently in the Dreaming, but still the seconds seemed to stretch as Lord Morpheus regarded him in silence. Finally the Dream King took a sip of his wine and sat back in his seat.
“An interlude consisting of wine and conversation?” he asked.
“If you’ll allow it.” Pharamond’s confidence grew.
“Hm.” Lord Morpheus took another sip of his wine. “I shall.”
“Excellent.” Pharamond relaxed back in his seat and crossed his legs. “Shall I tell you of the last time I saw Enkidu? I know how you love a good tale.”
Time, Pharamond knew, was passing. Possibly quite a lot of it. He told Lord Morpheus story after story and the King of Dreams shared a few tales of his own. Well, not of himself. Stories he knew, stories about others. But told in those deep, mesmerizing tones that kept Pharamond glued to his chair.
Pharamond didn’t care about the time. He had set things at work so that he could take a vacation and this was the best place he could think of to be. At some point Pharamond had removed his jacket and slung it over the back of his chair, confident that his pale pink button down shirt clearly showed that his physique was as godlike as ever.
He finished a story about a cruise he had arranged for some wood nymphs and reached for his wine glass, only to see that both it and the decanter were empty. Why hadn’t he thought to bring a second bottle? Pharamond looked up to see a tiny smile on graceful lips.
“The wine is done,” Lord Morpheus said. “Does the interlude end with it?”
Could Pharamond read intent into that question? Perhaps he could dream it.
“Only if you wish to be rid of me. I would stay as long as you permit me.”
Pharamond was nearly certain the smile grew by a fraction.
“Very well.” Lord Morpheus stood and Pharamond, thinking he was being dismissed, felt his stomach dip until Lord Morpheus held out his hand. “Will you step out onto the balcony with me? I believe the weather is pleasant this evening.”
Hardly believing his luck, Pharamond took Lord Morpheus’s hand, and marveled at the strength in that thin frame as he was helped to his feet. He didn’t recall the room having a balcony before but he now saw large glass doors along one wall. As they headed that way, Pharamond thrilled at the feeling of Lord Morpheus’s hand on his back.
The view from the balcony was breathtaking: a patchwork of dream landscapes stretched out below, each covered in its own version of night. Blues and blacks and purples stretched as far as the eye could see. Pharamond had seen much in his millennia on Earth and elsewhere but this rivaled the greatest wonders.
“Magnificent,” he breathed.
He looked up to see a starry sky, the kind he had not seen on Earth for hundreds of years, with clouds moving across, blown by a cool breeze. Pharamond turned his attention back to his host. Lord Morpheus was leaning against the stone railing, arms crossed over his chest, a pleased smirk on his lips.
“You are impressed by my realm?”
Pharamond felt bold enough for a step forward. “I am. And it makes me that much more impressed with the magnificent being who is its creator.”
Lord Morpheus’s eyes narrowed again and his head tipped to the side. “What is it that you want, Pharamond?”
Pharamond took another step forward. Near enough to touch now, but he wouldn’t dare. Yet.
“I thought I was making that very plain.” One more step. Only an inch separating them. “That night in Babylon. After the wine and the good advice. I suspect you recall.”
“Hm. You offered yourself to me.” Lord Morpheus’s voice was soft as velvet.
Pharamond’s heart pounded in his chest. “I did. I do so again.”
“I am not a god.” Lord Morpheus brought a long thin finger up to stroke Pharamond’s cheek. “I require no offerings.”
Through sheer force of will, Pharamond kept his voice steady. “And yet you accepted me in Babylon. I know you were pleased with that decision. Let me please you again.”
Lord Morpheus’s hand came to rest on the back of Pharamond’s neck and he ran his thumb along his jawline. “And what will you ask in return?” Lord Morpheus purred.
Pharamond swallowed, let himself lean closer to those perfect lips, nearly brushing them as he spoke. “The ecstasy of your body is its own reward. Thousands of years have passed and I can still feel you. That is all I want.”
The silence stretched and Pharamond tried to prepare himself to be pushed away.
“Hm. Very well.”
The pressure increased on the back of Pharamond’s neck, and then he was kissing Lord Morpheus.
It was exactly as he remembered. The same sensation that had haunted his dreams and waking hours since Babylon. A burning cold, a feeling of being consumed by the void. A thousand stories and poems reeled through Pharamond’s mind, tales of lust and longing and beauty. He forced himself back to the physical, to the feel of cold lips and tongue and teeth exploring his mouth, hands exploring his body. Pharamond gasped as Lord Morpheus bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood. Long fingers pressed against the front of his trousers and his cock strained to meet them.
“You came here to seduce me, Pharamond.”
It was not a question, but still demanded a response.
“Y-yes, Lord,” Pharamond panted.
Lord Morpheus leaned his body against Pharamond’s but tipped his head back to make eye contact. “This is what you want.”
Those black eyes. That long, graceful neck. The cold of his skin. Pharamond was undone. “This and more.”
“Then show me,” Lord Morpheus breathed.
Between one heartbeat and the next they were transported to a lushly furnished bedroom. Pharamond grinned and lowered himself to his knees on the thick carpet.
“With pleasure, Lord.”