Hyacinth's Light

Hyacinth’s Light scored 5 Angels at Fallen Angels Reviews, here.
 

…and 5 Stars at Rainbow Reviews!

 Hyacinth’s Light   takes place in the distant future, on a far-off planet called Delphi 3, and lightly echoes the Classical story of Phoebus Apollo and his lover Hyacinth.  The residents of Delphi 3 have lost contact with Earth, and so lost access to food, construction, and medical supplies.  They’re left to scrape out a very primitive existence on the inhospitable world.

Trevor Wainwright is a physician and empath, one of the few people educated in the ancient healing arts.  He is called to the town of Phocis, where a mysterious plague is devastating the population.  He feels an instant attraction to the Mayor’s passionate and aloof son, Quentin, but the strict Delphian beliefs forbid homosexuality.

Together the two young men work to cure the illness, develop a way to sustain the starving and impoverished people, and forge a new society based on acceptance rather than bigotry.  But the repercussions from a horrible crime committed by the Mayor threaten to destroy not only Quentin, Trevor, and the tenuous love forming between them, but everyone struggling to survive on Delphi 3.

 

Here’s and excerpt.  Please enjoy!

                They ascended slowly, Quentin picking his way fastidiously to avoid sliding rock and Trevor following. A few times the less-graceful doctor skidded, and the Mayor’s son had to catch him by the wrist or under the arms. His hands, unused to physical labor, became rough and raw from gripping the scarlet stone. The way never became too steep as to present a danger of falling, but the hike tested the limits of Trevor’s body. He had to stop several times to catch his wind, and his biceps and thighs trembled from exertion. Though he was accustomed to being viewed as soft and worthless by the pioneers, Trevor didn’t want Quentin to see him that way, and so he struggled to keep up. The higher they climbed, the worse the wind assailed them. Bits of rock pelted their backs. Trevor’s glasses became so coated in sand that he could barely see. When Quentin stopped, the doctor collided into his back.

                “This is it,” Quentin said. Behind and below him, the faint lights of the town glowed against a pomegranate landscape and sky. They’d come to a plateau overhung with a half-dome of rock. At the end of it where a corridor had been scooped out from the canyon wall, Trevor saw some stunted trees and bushes that looked like fuzzy orbs in the red sun’s light. Hyacinth hung level with where they now stood and directed a channel of crimson light into the rocky grotto.

                As he walked, Quentin lifted the straps of his quiver and bow over his head. He laid them down gently, and Trevor placed his bag and hat beside them.

                A pool of water the color of merlot waited at the far end of the plateau. Trees, their branches stretching like worshipful arms toward Hyacinth, formed a verdant canopy above. Water trickled down from a fissure in the rock between their exposed roots. Closer now, Trevor could see tiny, five-petal flowers scattered over the bushes. They produced a smell reminiscent of black currant. A few petals floated on the surface of the pool. Burgundy moss carpeted those smooth stones closest to the water. Trevor knelt down, eyes wide with delighted disbelief, and let his fingertips graze the surface of the water. It felt like cool silk.

                “Nobody else knows about this place,” Quentin said. He peeled his shirt over his head and flung it behind him. “Which is probably why the water is still so clean.” Quentin proceeded to step out of his boots and pants. When he was naked, he stepped into the water, shivered a moment, and dipped his head below the surface. He emerged, dark hair dripping water like blood. It ran in red rivulets down his slender, sculpted chest and over his muscular shoulders. He shook his head, showering the still-kneeling Trevor with cool droplets and said, “Coming in?”

                As much as he craved the fresh caress of the water, Trevor didn’t think he could join Quentin. With Quentin standing, the pool barely concealed the impressive cock Trevor had glimpsed. The young doctor’s eyes lingered on the triangle of wet, dark hair, and his memory filled in what waited beneath it. Trevor knew the scientific names of all of the muscles on Quentin’s body: the sinew that stretched from behind his ear to his collarbone and popped out when he stretched his neck, the shelf that angled from his armpit to his nipple, the defined V that pointed down from his hips, but he couldn’t remember any of the terms. He could only gaze at the other man’s beauty and imagine how those firm planes of flesh would feel beneath his hands, his lips. His body had responded to his fantasies and his own cock pressed uncomfortably against the button fly of his trousers. If he took them off, he’d never be able to conceal his arousal and he didn’t know how Quentin would react. After all, Quentin’s religion taught that for two men to love one another was the foulest atrocity.

                “What’s the matter, are you shy?” Quentin taunted. “Don’t worry. I’ll turn my back until you’re in the water.” He crossed the pool, leaving alizarin ripples in his wake and faced the trees.

                Trevor stripped quickly, always keeping his hand pressed over his engorged cock, just in case Quentin decided to sneak a look. But nothing in the other man’s mood led Trevor to believe that Quentin had an interest in seeing his bare body. The attraction he’d sensed earlier was so absent that Trevor wondered if it had been wishful thinking. Even an empath could kid himself.

                The chill of the water made the doctor choke on his breath when he lowered his torso into the pool. Hearing the splash, Quentin turned to face Trevor again.

                “Feels good, doesn’t it?” asked the Mayor’s son. He dipped down and surfaced a second time. Hyacinth’s light reflected off of Quentin’s dripping skin, surrounding his gorgeous body in a ruby halo. Trevor’s erection, slightly diminished upon entering the frigid pond, returned full-force.

                “Lovely,” he managed to respond.

                “Worth the climb?”

                The beautiful sight of Quentin undressed had made the struggle worthwhile, and the water felt as refreshing as a spring rain back on the highlands of New Albion, so Trevor nodded.

                Quentin walked languidly around the perimeter of the pool with his shoulders back and his belly arched forward, grazing the satin surface of the water with his fingers. Trevor knew that if he kept watching Quentin, the pressure in his balls would become unbearable. Already his cock had leaked a few warm, white droplets, but they’d been carried away by the slow swirl of the cold water.

                Trevor turned to washing himself in earnest. He cupped his hands to wash his face and underarms. He wished he had a rough cloth to scrub the grunge from his skin but had to make due with his hands. He plunged under the water and kneaded his fingers into his filthy blonde hair, digging to loosen the dirt from his scalp. When he couldn’t hold his breath any longer, he watched the silvery-pink bubbles shoot from his lips to the surface. After they dissipated, he noticed Quentin’s form pale against the purplish liquid. His cock floated out from his body, and the hair around it wavered in the water. Trevor stayed below, admiring Quentin until he thought his lungs would burst.

                What would Quentin do if Trevor closed the few feet between them and took the head of Quentin’s cock into his mouth? Would he fight for just a moment before realizing the potential for pleasure? Would he freeze from confusion? Maybe he’d acknowledge a need as strong as Trevor’s, grab the back of the doctor’s hair and yank him up until their lips met. Or would he, as he’d been taught, report Trevor to the authorities? Trevor reached out with his perception, trying to glean some clue as to Quentin’s response. But his skills were limited to sensing a person’s current emotional state, not divining their future reactions. Desperate for air, the young doctor stood up.

                Quentin, underneath a low hanging branch, reclined with his upper arms and the back of his head on the ring of stone around the pool. His eyes were closed, and he gave off a melancholy-tinged complacency. Trevor decided to gauge Quentin’s reactions with a little subtle flirtation, nothing that couldn’t be dismissed as friendliness if needed. He crossed the water and leaned beside the Mayor’s son, letting their shoulders touch. The algae coating the rocks felt slick against his back. To his relief, Quentin neither jumped nor recoiled. Instead, he sighed contentedly and sunk a little lower into the water.

                “So what do you think?” Quentin asked, without opening his eyes.

                “About what?” Trevor had been thinking about cupping Quentin’s knee, and wondered if it would be too overt. He’d been thinking about how badly he wanted to feel the solid, intertwined muscles of Quentin’s thigh beneath the chilled, smooth skin. He tilted his head toward Quentin, so that his crown nearly touched the other man’s temple.

                “About the illness,” Quentin said. “What do you think is causing it?” As the Mayor’s son spoke, Trevor felt a stab of nervousness. He sensed something buried in Quentin that Quentin didn’t want exhumed.

                “Most illnesses are caused by either viruses or bacteria,” Trevor said. “They’re tiny organisms invisible to the naked eye, but that can be seen with the aid of instruments. Sometimes the body’s natural defenses can fight them off, other times medicine is required.”

                “Do you have some medicine that will cure this, Dr. Wainwright?”

                “Won’t you call me Trevor?” He let his knuckles graze the outside of Quentin’s thigh, briefly enough that it could be called an accident.

                “Trevor. Do you know how to stop this plague?”

                Sighing deeply, Trevor answered “No. I didn’t find any evidence of infection in the blood samples. There are plants and animals on this planet radically different from what we knew on earth. My greatest fear is that there are alien viruses here as well, things unknown to healers and unable to be repelled by our bodies. Look how many died on earth during the plagues before the Dark Age. A single strain of influenza, or something similar to it, could wipe out the entire population of Delphi 3.”

                “No one would ever know we were gone,” Quentin said. “No one back home cares about what happens to us out here in the middle of nowhere.”

                “I miss the fog in the mornings,” Trevor said, Quentin’s nostalgia spreading to him as quickly as the diseases in his morbid account. “I miss the rain and the way the sky stayed grey and cool after it stopped falling.”

                “I miss grass,” Quentin said. “How it felt under your bare feet. I don’t suppose we’ll ever get back, ever see it again.”

                “I don’t suppose we will.”

                “Trevor, do you believe in an afterlife? The heaven my people preach?”

                Quentin had turned to face him, and Trevor met his smoldering gaze. With Hyacinth hovering just above the horizon and his glasses lying beside his hat, Trevor saw Quentin through a gauze-like haze. His hair and features looked soft and ethereal. He was close enough that Trevor could detect the scent of tea on his breath and smell his damp hair. He’d only need to lean in an inch and their mouths would touch. He moved forward half an inch and hesitated.

                “Do you?” Quentin asked again.

                “No,” Trevor admitted. “It makes no sense. I believe in living. I believe in taking advantage of all the opportunities our existences present.” An inner voice cried out to Trevor to kiss Quentin now, that the moment was perfect. But, still uncertain of Quentin’s predilections, the doctor couldn’t take the risk.

                “It will be dark soon,” Quentin said. He climbed out of the water and gave Trevor a clear view of the pale crescents of his slender ass. The young physician almost moaned with frustration. Quentin bent for his boots, and Trevor saw his dark crack and his balls dangling beneath it. Hard again, he sunk lower into the water. Luckily Quentin snickered and said, “That’s right. I forgot you were shy.” He turned and walked several feet toward the sinking Hyacinth. Trevor watched him as he fumbled with his own clothes, a black silhouette against a crimson disk, like the sharp pupil of a reptilian eye.