Offerings

Part 7

"I-, I never guessed any of this, Zel. Not even after seeing Rezo take control of you. You know, just before he awakened Shabranigdo? I had forgotten about that until now."

"You were never meant to guess, Gourry," Zelgadis quietly reassured.

"I still feel bad that I never realized-,"

"Don't!" Zelagdis interrupted vehemently, then, as the swordsman jerked in surprise, continued more softly, "Do not, Gourry. You may not assume any blame in the matter, not when I went to such excessive lengths to conceal my past from all of you."

"But, why? Why did you do that?"

Zelgadis shook his head and looked away, turning his rag over and over in his hands, desperately trying to formulate words which would explain his reluctance. What explanation would emphasis that it had stemmed more from fear and less than because he did not-,

"I think I see... You didn't trust any of us enough, did you? At least not like you trusted Rodimus and Zolf."

No explanation, because if he were to be honest with himself, Zelgadis knew that he had not trusted Gourry or the girls. Not trusted? Or, simply not believed that any other people could be as terribly and wonderfully blind to the depravity of his existence as those two?

"They were good friends to you, no?"

His throat tightening, Zelgadis could only nod. They had once been everything. He looked up, trying to focus on Gourry's face, but the swordsman's features ran together as his eyes watered, until the other man was nothing more than a flesh-toned blur surrounded by a golden halo. Finally, he closed his eyes, but the darkness behind his eyelids was almost immediately lit by the fire of Ruby-eye's power, and he bled anew as he watched his saviors consumed.

"I want to be as good a friend to you, Zel, one that you can trust to tell anything."

Zelgadis attention snapped outward again, wrenched from the contemplation of Rodimus' and Zolf's deaths by that unexpected assertion.

"As good a friend as you've been to me. You've helped me so much today and I want to thank you again."

"No, you don't have to thank me at all, Gourry," Zelgadis protested. He did not deserve thanks, not after the cravenly way he made the other man wait before offering his help. And, even less did he deserve the depth of the friendship the other man seemed to be offering him. "I told you-,"

"I do have to, Zel. Maybe I would've figured it out on my own, but it would've taken a lot longer if it happened at all since I can be so dense, but you helped me to see that what Fibrizzo made me do was not my fault. It was his."

"That's exactly right," Zelgadis said, slowly smiling at the clarity of Gourry's perception. It had been worth it. Everything that had happened that afternoon had been worth it. "And, now, knowing that, maybe you can forgive yourself as Lina, Amelia, and I already have."

"Maybe. I'll tell you what. I'll forgive myself if you do."

"Huh?" Missing the turn as Gourry swerved without warning onto a new tangent, Zelgadis gave his head a quick shake, but that action did not result in illumination, only a swift bite of pain through his temples.

"I'll forgive myself for what I did while Fibrizzo controlled me if you'll forgive yourself for what you did and what Rezo did to you while he controlled you."

What the hell? He can't possibly compare-,

"B-, bu-, but, Gourry," Zelgadis finally managed to splutter.

"What? Makes perfect sense to me."

"It doesn't!" Zelgadis asserted, the near smugness in Gourry's voice untying the knots in his tongue. "That's different."

"How?"

"What I have done, all of it, has been so evil, so much more so than-,"

"Bullshit! You said yourself that our experiences were the same!"

"I said they were similar, Gourry," Zelgadis contradicted, "Not the same. What I did while under Rezo's control-,"

"That's just it! You were under Rezo's control. It wasn't you! You didn't do anything more than I-,"

"You didn't harm any of your friends, Gourry. I tortured mine. You did not murder children. I did! You weren't someone's willing whore! I was!" Zelgadis' voice rose with each word until he was shouting. He stared up into the swordsman's flashing eyes, body bowstring taut. What he had done was reprehensible! He could never beg forgiveness from the corpses of all those who had died at his hands, nor from those that he had maimed. The filth had taken into himself the moment he had given himself willingly to Rezo had irreversibly tainted him. Why could Gourry not understand?

"You damned, stubborn idiot."

Though it was as quiet as his had been loud, the power in Gourry's voice was more than enough to make Zelgadis' anger falter, and when the swordsman stepped forward and pulled him into his arms again, the last of it was extinguished. The embrace lasted only a few brief seconds this time, before the other man pushed him away and held him at arm's length.

"And, Lina calls me the stupid one."

Zelgadis just stared up at his companion as Gourry shook his head, then hid behind his bangs and hollowly whispered, "Why can't you just see-,"

"No, Zel, you're the one who's refusing to see, but that's all right for now. I'll just keep working on opening your eyes for you."

"Wha-?" Startled, Zelgadis yielded to the sudden pressure beneath his chin, his eyes sliding up the length of Gourry's arm until they were caught in an endless azure sea.

"I'm not so smart, but I'm still smart enough to know when to quit. I think that if I keep pushing you, you're gonna slam some wall down between us and I don't want that to happen. One good thing did come from Fibrizzo capturing me. It made you open up. I feel more close to you now than I ever have, Zel, and I don't want you to push me away again, so I'll back off and we won't talk any more about this for now. All right?"

Very slowly, Zelgadis nodded, grateful for the reprieve, though the glint in Gourry's eyes promised it was only temporary. He relaxed as the awkwardness between himself and the swordsman faded, and regretted the loss of Gourry's touch when the other man lowered his hand.

"Good. And, besides, I want to be a little selfish here."

Zelgadis knew his bewilderment had to be plain when a lopsided smile blossomed on Gourry's face.

"My side is awfully sore. Will you still heal it for me?"

"I-, of course! Just stay still," Zelgadis hastily directed as, careful of the swords in his belt, he dropped to his knees in front of Gourry. "This won't take long."

Zelgadis found he had no defenses left against close proximity to Gourry and what that could do to him. Though he wished he could prevent it, he was helpless against the treacherous fingers of arousal which began to stroke his body to life the moment he placed one hand on the other man's uninjured hip to steady himself and raised the other hand to hover over the swordsman's wound.

"Recovery," Zelgadis whispered, shaping the magical energy to suit his purposes. He bit back a groan as the soothing, tingling warmth which was a by-product of the spell flowed over his hand and seemed to twine itself right around his tightening body, magnifying his arousal. More quickly than he could imagine, he felt himself lengthen and harden into a full erection.

As Gourry's breath sailed over his head in a sigh of relief, Zelgadis leaned a little closer to the swordsman and stopped his half-hearted attempt to fight the response the other man was able to, all unwittingly, draw from him. He was perfectly capable of performing this healing with an erection, and as he had discovered from past experience, his body's rebellion could be put down by simply ignoring it for a long enough time.

Closing his eyes and trusting his instincts to tell him when it would be time to end the spell, Zelgadis inhaled deeply and had enough awareness of his circumstances left to suppress another moan. Gourry's scent was an olfactory delight to his sensitive nose, as enticing as the sight of the swordsman's physical form was to his eyes. He breathed in again, allowing the delicious musk to wrap him in sensuality, shamefully taking advantage of the opportunity he had been gifted with.

"You know, Zel. One part of me does know it wasn't my fault, but... well, another part still cringes every time I think of it. I kinda still feel all ragged inside."

"It's natural that you're still hurting, Gourry," Zelgadis murmured, half of his mind returning from its sensual revel. "You were traumatized. Give it a little more time."

"But, I don't want to wait, Zel. I don't like feeling this way."

"I wish I could just cant a spell and fix it as easily as I can fix this wound," Zelgadis whispered regretfully. "But, I can't. The most I can offer you is my presence and the knowledge that always I shall be here for you should you need me."

"That'll be enough, I think."

Simple contentedness spread throughout Zelgadis as hope smoothed away the last of the harshness which had been present in Gourry's voice for the past week. He let his mind wander again, the swordsman's scent drawing him just a little closer.

The sultry heat rising from Gourry's skin added its power to the incantation already being worked on Zelgadis by the warmth of the Recovery spell and galvanized his long suppressed hunger for the swordsman. His body's increased demand for contact translated into an unsettled twitching of the fingers resting on Gourry's uninjured side.

Touch. The swordsman's skin. So consistently warm. So smooth. A satin soft sheath for steel as powerful as the Hikari no Ken.

As if possessed of minds of their own, Zelgadis' fingers seized on the outlet given them, their roving over the flesh they had rarely been given a chance to touch feeding his senses information which had him biting his lower lip and suppressing yet another groan.

"Mmmm, feels good, Zel."

Sound conspired with touch and smell to draw Zelgadis further under the seductive spell being cast on his senses, the hazy burr in that beloved tenor sending a sensual heat winding up from his groin until it finally lodged in the back of his throat.

"Don't stop."

His eyes cracking open, Zelgadis checked the progress of his spell. No, he could not stop yet, would not until Gourry's flesh was sleek and whole once more. Instead of closing them, he let his eyes follow the waistline of the swordsman's trousers where they rested low on his hip. They moved down to where the pants flapped open, flicking over the swordsman's defined abdomen with great appreciation, but were caught fast when they lit on the half-exposed mound of the other man's genitals.

Sight, sound, touch, smell. All his senses were engaged, were the kindling which was building the burning within him to bonfire proportions, all except... taste.

God!

His mouth watering, Zelgadis tried to swallow around the sudden thickness in his throat. Would Gourry's flavor suit his tastes in reality as well as they did in his fantasies? If he bent his head just a little, he would be able to mouth the swordsman through his underclothes, might even be able to work the underclothes down far enough to... find... out...

Shrieking at the top of its lungs, the little voice of reason deep within Zelgadis finally managed to batter its way through his almost trance-like state and he suddenly realized what he was about to do just as he started to lower his head. As though it had been miscast, the spell being worked on his senses shattered, its force backlashing into him and tempering his fever with icy rivulets of panic. His breathing caught and did not resume, the fingers which had been ghosting over Gourry's side stiffened to immobility, the flesh beneath his cheek was suddenly white hot.

The flesh beneath his CHEEK!?!

How had he gotten close enough to Gourry to lay his cheek against his stomach?

The rivulets grew into a blizzard driven torrent which flooded Zelgadis' veins, shriveling his erection and nearly freezing his mind. He only barely held onto his healing spell, frantically smoothing the flow of power when the white shimmer around his hand flickered and danced.

What had Gourry said? 'Feels good.' and 'Don't stop.'

Praying that the swordsman had spoken thus because of the general restorative effects of the Recovery spell and not because he had somehow managed to grossly overstep himself, Zelgadis forced himself to look down.

Gourry was not erect.

Slowly, relief began to gain ground on the panic, began to dam the flood enough so that Zelgadis could turn his gaze upward. Though Gourry's eyes were closed and a tiny half-smile played around his lips, he did not really look like a man who was aroused. He did not really look as if he had even noticed the entirely too close proximity of his healer or said healer's near lapse.

Thank everything that was holy!

Lips compressing to a thin line full of self directed disgust, Zelgadis turned all his attention back to Gourry's wound, resolutely resisting the swordsman's potent lures and refusing to allow his mind to wander again. He would finish the healing. That was all. He would not tread the path he had forbidden himself to travel the moment he had realized that what he felt for the swordsman was more than simple affection.

Gourry was Lina's.

Though the sorceress had never admitted her love for the swordsman to herself, let alone anyone else, it was plain to Zelgadis that the two were meant for each other. And, as he knew himself to be ill-suited to be Gourry's mate, even should the other man, by some miracle, be even slightly attracted to him, he had never begrudged Lina her feelings. He would not usurp a position that he had no claim to by attempting any kind of relationship with the swordsman beyond friendship. His fantasies were more than enough to sustain him.

Zelgadis studied Gourry's side, pleased, in spite of his anger with himself that the wound had faded until it was nothing more substantial than a whisper thin red line on the swordsman's skin.

Almost finished... thank god.

"Hey, Zel, did you know your hair is cold? But, only at first. It warmed up real quick on my stomach. It was kinda weird, but it felt really nice."

Wha...?

He had noticed!!!

The dam broke, releasing the icy flood.

"Uh, I-, th-, uh-,"

"And, your fingers? They were cold too, but I guess that's not so strange since anyone can have cold fingers. Good thing I'm not ticklish, though."

"I-, that is-,"

"But, your breath. Now, that was hot. And, the stone thingeys on your chin? They were nice and scratchy. Just a little lower and they would've-,"

"There, you're all set," Zelgadis frantically interrupted, jerking his hands from the swordsman's body as he allowed the energy of his spell to dissipate. If the wound was not completely healed then it was close enough. All he knew was that he had to get away from Gourry. The thought circled madly in his head, its wild din more raucous than that of all the rest of his jumbled thoughts combined.

"Zel, I didn't mean-, It's-,"

Zelgadis scrambled backwards, trying to regain his feet, but his cloak tangled around his legs, robbing him of his balance and sending him sprawling instead. The bare blade of Gourry's sword cut through the double layer of his tunic and trousers as he landed hard on his side, pressing into his hip with enough force that, like the swordsman's earlier blow across the face, he plainly felt it even through his stony skin.

"Zel! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine!" Zelgadis gasped, trying to catch his breath. He tried to roll away, to maintain the distance between them, as Gourry took a step forward, but only managed to turn onto his back, the swords still beneath him pulling on his belt and bringing him up short.

Damned, blasted blades!

"Then, what the hell are you-,"

Turning the other way, Zelgadis managed to gain an elbow and a knee, but stiffened before continuing onto his feet as a sudden thought struck him, blowing away his panic the same way a freshening breeze would blow away a heavy fog.

Gourry's sword! A way to distract the swordsman from asking questions he had no answer for. A way to save himself!

Carefully checking the positions of the swords, for he had no desire to have them trip him up again, Zelgadis gathered himself and straightened.

"Zel, what was that all about? Why did you jerk away from me like that?"

Reaching beneath his cloak, Zelgadis slid the Hikari no Ken from his belt.

"You acted like you were scared or some-,"

As Zelgadis settled the Hikari no Ken over his forearm and presented its hilt to Gourry, the other man's words abruptly cut off. He froze, the skin between his shoulders prickling as if a swarm of ants were suddenly marching over it, when all the blood drained from Gourry's face and the swordsman stumbled back, alarm stripping his features of any trace of comfort or relaxation.

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