Meeting Ebima by DarlingCrescendo

A gay adult story: Meeting Ebima by DarlingCrescendo ,

My second story! I’m realy excited about this one, I actually started writing it before I wrote Desmond and Lyle, but got a HUGE case of writer’s block. I read your comments for the first story, and I think I fixed the problems with the paragraphs and details. If you like it, tell me! If you hate it, tell me! I want to know what you my readers want to see in stories, I want to know I’m doing all that I can to keep you guys enthralled 🙂 So again, whether or not you liked it, please leave some comments and let me know. Thanks, guys!

The streetlights were barely visible through the windshield of Christopher’s car, as he navigated his way home. He cursed himself inwardly for not leaving school before the hurricane hit, no doubt his mother would call again, asking his location as she had at least three times in as many minutes.

Chris jumped as his phone rang, and cursed loudly as he had to swerve to avoid smacking into an SUV that appeared form nowhere. The wheels of his Accord began to skid as water collected under them, and Christopher tried desperately to maintain control. He could make out a huge oak tree, fast approaching him. Finally, giving up his attempts of controlling the car, Chris flung his arms to cover his face and screamed as his car flew into the trunk of the enormous tree.

He heard an ear-splitting crash, felt a shooting pain starting in his lower half, then saw, heard, and felt nothing. The scream of metal, and the sound of the rain hammering the broken vehicle, jarred Christopher awake, only to nearly fall back out of consciousness as the pain from his broken body set in. It was all the boy could do to moan and hope the growing darkness would take him.

The door to Honda screamed in protest, as someone outside pulled it back. Chris wondered vaguely if the fire department had found him, and were trying to rescue him. The door closest to him was being wrenched back like a banana peel. Christopher was somehow proud of himself for making such a clever analogy. He watched dully, as black fingers he assumed were gloves, wrapped around what used to be the top of the front seat door, clenched, and pulled the door back with ease.

The hands then reached inside of the car itself, and began to unbuckle the boy from the mess that was his seat. After he was detangled, the hands moved further inside of the car, showing the hands weren’t gloves, but his hero’s skin color. He tried to be afraid, but it seemed like too much effort, it was all he could do to simply draw breath. The long fingered hands went into long arms that lifted him ever so delicately from the wreckage and against a chest as black as the hands and arms.

A deep, rumbling voice spoke with a slight accent, Christopher couldn’t place. “Rest, child. You are safe now.” Chris fought to look at the face of his savior, and for the sake of the small river of fear running through his mind, he would later wish he hadn’t.

The man holding him was black, the way a dog is black. He should’ve blended into the surrounding darkness, but his skin was so dark, it made him stand out all the more. The man’s voice was almost a solid thing; it ran through his body, like a hand caressing him. He shivered, then moaned at the resulting pain. The pain grew, and a darkness that had encased him earlier was beginning to creep up on him again, threatening to draw him in.

The man threw him even more for a loop when he placed his soft lips against the boy’s forehead, and laid the softest of kisses on him. Christopher opened his mouth to ask where the dark man was taking him, but the act of drawing in breath to do so sent pain throughout his chest and spine. He convulsed in the man’s arms and fainted.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. ‘What the hell is that annoying sound?‘ Beep. Beep. Beep. If someone doesn’t stop that damn sound, I’m gonna scream!’ Christopher moaned and forced his eyes open. He lowered his head enough to look at his surroundings and saw he was in a hospital, and his mother, father, and little sister were sleeping around his bed. Beep. Beep. Beep.

He frowned at the annoying noise and saw it was his heart monitor. ‘Duh, idiot. How many hospital shows like House and Grey’s Anatomy have you seen?’ Chris raised his right hand to scratch his nose, and saw it was in a cast. Upon looking at his left, he saw it was filled with needles carrying various fluids into his body. He swallowed thickly, looking at the needles, he’d never been fond of needles.

Chris made a small sound in his throat, causing his sister, Abigail to wake. She was almost 5 years younger than him, but they were almost of a height; 5’6, both with ghostly blue eyes, and sops of curly black hair that did whatever it damn well wanted to. Chris worked out furiously to make up for his height, or lack thereof. His body was chiseled, every inch of him was hard muscle, except for his ass.

He maintained that if every inch of the body is muscled, the body looks fake. Abigail was almost identical to him in the face, but her body was much less fit than his. She wasn’t fat, however she wasn’t cut. Her stomach hung a bit, her arms and legs as well. Both of them favored their father, Steve with the hair color, but the curls and icy blue eyes came from Janet, their mother.

Abigail sat up and squealed. “Chris! You’re awake!” Her yelp jarred Steve and Janet awake, and a flood of questions poured down. “Are you alright?” “Do you know what day it is?” “What’s my name, honey?” “Do you know where you are?” “What do you remember form the accident?” Christopher held up his IV ridden hand for silence, which eventually came. “Can I get some water? Feels like a camel shat in my mouth.” Janet frowned, but Steve chuckled and poured his son some ice water, complete with a straw. Chris gulped his water and asked how he’d gotten to the hospital. Steve shrugged as he took the empty cup.

“We just got a call asking if we knew you, once I told the woman you were my son, she told me you’d been in a car accident.” He looked around to his wife and daughter. “None of us were thinking about how you got here. What do you remember?” While his father had been talking, Christopher had internally decided not to mention the strange man with the black skin that had taken him from his car. He convinced himself that he was hallucinating, and that someone else, maybe a firefighter had saved him. He was furious with himself at the reaction his body was displaying when he thought about the delicate kiss the man had left him. He hid his erection by raising the leg that wasn’t encased in a cast, casually. “I don’t remember. I only remember the car starting to skid, and hitting a tree. After that, nothin’.”

After talking to his family, and picking their brains about his accident for a few hours, Christopher’s doctor had arrived to announce he would need to stay overnight. His parents and Abbi had promised to visit him the next day and left. Chris forced down the atrocious hospital food and flipped through the channels. A couple hours later it was night, and Chris couldn’t sleep. He’d turned off his TV, drawn the curtain around his bed, and tried everything he could to fall asleep, to no avail. Chris turned on his back, sighed, opened his eyes to push the button to get a nurse for a sleep aid, but never made it that far. His heart dropped, and he found himself staring into the eyes of the dark skinned man that had pulled him from his destroyed car.

“I mean you no harm, Christopher McIntyre.” Chris shivered at the low, low sound of the man’s voice. He then kicked himself inwardly for reacting the way he did when remembering the kiss. Chris spoke calmly, despite the fear bubbling in his stomach. “How the hell did you get in here without anyone seeing? Visiting hours are over.” An abrupt flash of white teeth in the dark, dark face made him jump, before realizing the man was smiling at him. “I have my ways.” The man moved closer, until he was practically sitting on Chris’ left hand side. He stroked a surprisingly soft hand down the boy’s cheek, and spoke in his deep voice.

“Ask your questions, boy. I give you my word of honor, I will answer each one.” Chris’ previous 7 inch erection sprouted to life once again, and this time he couldn’t hide it. The man chuckled when he saw it, and continued stroking his face until Chris swatted his hand away. “Stop that, dammit…Can’t focus when you do shit like that.” The man just smiled again. “You say you’ll answer any question I ask you? Truthfully?” The man nodded and cocked his head to one side. Feeling like a mouse watching a rattlesnake, Chris cleared his throat sharply. “What’s your name?” “Ebima.” ‘Ooookay….’ He thought to himself. “What are you?” “I’m a prince.” Chris shook his head. “I mean race…species? Are you even human?” “I am not human. I am a Salvix demon, I specialize in the element of stone. I am the prince of my people.” Chris was silent for a moment before shaking his head like a dog trying to clear it’s ears of water. “Did you just say demon?”
“I did.”
“Are you…are you some kind of mental person?”
That earned him another smile, “I am not. I am what I said I am.”
“A demon?”
“Yes.”
“So does that mean you’re here to kill or possess me or something like that?”
“No.” Chris waited for the man to explain himself, but he never did.
“So…what do you want from me?”
Another smile; a startling flash of white in such a dark face.
“I desire you.”
“For…Wait…What?”
“I. Desire. You.”
Chris shook his head again. “What the hell does that mean?”
Ebima glanced at the clock, then looked down at Chris. “Will you permit me to touch you?” Chris thought for a moment. “Do you promise not to hurt me?” Ebima placed a dark hand on his apparently bare chest. “I give you my word as a demon.” Chris huffed and nodded. Ebima smiled yet again, and lifted the boy clear of the bed. He held Chris as if he could’ve held him forever and never tire. He then turned and to Chris’ horror, leapt through the open window. Ebima had no shirt to grab onto while the ground rushed up to meet them, and Chris was repulsed with himself, as even then, he was admiring the toned muscle under Ebima’s powerful arms. Chris closed his eyes and threw his head into the other man’s neck. He heard a deep, masculine chuckle rumbling from the demon’s chest. The vibrations sent waves through Chris’ abused body, making his hard on almost painful. Ebima spoke against Chris’ ear. “Open your eyes, Christopher.” Chris did so, slowly. What he saw made his eyes shoot open and forced a gasp through his lips. He gazed at a bedroom, the size of the first level of his house. The walls were a deep burgundy, the floor was black carpeting that threatened to swallow the color of Ebima’s large feet. Chris stole a glace at the ceiling to see burgundy and yellow curtains suspended over the top.