29. Teach Me
29
Teach Me
Dorian
Several days had passed since Ren inadvertently activated the Chain of Echoes, and the tension between us had only grown heavier with each one. While Ren still came to spend time with me every afternoon, he’d been strangely distant since then. A part of me wondered if perhaps we’d taken things too fast, especially since we hadn’t been intimate since the last time. I missed holding him close, missed loving him, missed pleasuring him, but I wouldn’t push him to do more than he was ready for.
It was Friday night now, the end of the week bringing some semblance of calm, but I could feel the weight of everything looming over us. I’d spent the evening preparing Ren’s favorite meal, a hearty vegan stew with smoked tempeh and root vegetables, but he’d barely touched his dinner.
The kitchen was warm and inviting, its ancient copper pots gleaming in the amber light of enchanted lanterns. The rich aroma of herbs and roasted vegetables mingled with the musty scent of grimoires stacked on the weathered oak shelves, their leather spines cracked with age. Steam rose from the pot on the stove, fogging the window that looked out onto the herb garden where protective crystals gleamed in the twilight. Bones dozed in his favorite spot by the hearth, his skeletal form oddly comforting against the backdrop of dancing shadows cast by the fire.
Ren sat at the kitchen island, absently stirring his glass of iced tea, his eyes distant. He wasn’t looking at me, not really. His attention was on the food, the utensils, the table, but not on me. Not on us.
I took in a quiet breath and leaned against the counter, the smooth wood warm beneath my palms. The kitchen herbs hanging from the ceiling swayed gently in the evening breeze from the open window.
“Everything all right?” I asked. “The resonance from tomorrow's ritual isn't affecting you, is it?”
Ren didn’t respond immediately. His gaze lifted to mine, but it was a look that didn’t quite meet my eyes. It was like he was there, but not fully present. His shoulders were tight, his body stiff, and I could tell he was somewhere else in his mind. Somewhere far away.
Perhaps it was the impending trip out to the old academy tomorrow that had him so tense.
I held his gaze, searching for the right words to break through whatever wall he had built up around himself tonight. “Ren…” I said, softer this time, stepping closer. “Tomorrow is going to go well. We’ve made all the preparations we can. There’s no reason it shouldn’t go exactly like we planned.”
Ren's eyes flickered with a mix of emotions I couldn't quite place. He set down his glass with a soft clink, the ice cubes tinkling against each other like chimes in a gentle breeze. “It's not just about tomorrow, Dorian,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
I felt my heart constrict, a familiar ache settling in my chest. The kitchen suddenly felt smaller, the air thick with unspoken words. I moved closer, my fingers trailing along the cool granite of the countertop, wanting to bridge the gap between us but unsure how.
“What is it then?” I asked, my voice gentle. “You know you can talk to me about anything, Ren.”
He let out a shaky breath, his shoulders hunching even more, as if he was trying to make himself smaller. “It's about... us. About what you said the other night.”
I frowned. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific, love.”
He sighed and looked away, his expression distant.
“Ren,” I began, my voice soft as I moved closer. “Whatever you're thinking, whatever fears are running through that brilliant mind of yours, I promise you, they're unfounded.”
He looked up at me then, his brown eyes swimming with a mix of vulnerability and frustration that made my chest ache. “Are they, though?” he asked, a bitter edge to his words. “You said you wanted me to... to top you. But Dorian, I can't. I'm not... I don't have...” He let out a frustrated growl. “I’ll never be able to give you what a cis man could.”
I took a slow breath, my heart aching at the rawness in his voice. I could see the frustration in the tightness of his jaw, the way his hands were balled into fists at his sides. It wasn’t about the act itself. It was about how Ren saw himself, how he believed his body couldn’t measure up.
I stepped closer to him, my hand finding his, gentle but firm. “Ren,” I said softly, coaxing his gaze to meet mine. “Listen to me. This isn’t about what you think you can or can’t give me. When I look at you,” I continued, my voice soft but firm, “I see a brilliant, passionate young man who challenges me intellectually and moves me emotionally. I see someone whose strength and determination inspire me daily. Someone whose very presence makes my world brighter, more vibrant, more alive. I love you as you are, in every way that matters.”
His brow furrowed, and I could see the skepticism in his eyes. “But—”
“No buts,” I interrupted, squeezing his hand. “You're already everything I could want, Ren. The way you carry yourself, the quiet strength in your movements, the masculine energy that radiates from everything you do… It's all intrinsically you. Your body is beautiful because it's yours, because it's part of the remarkable man you are. I don’t need you to be someone else. I don’t need you to have something you don’t. I need you, just as you are.”
I let go of his hand, cupping his face instead, my thumb tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “I don’t need to reproduce anything, love. I don’t need some ideal of what a relationship or a man is supposed to look like. I want you. I want us to explore and learn together, to be together.”
I took a step back, feeling my chest tighten as I let the words sink in, watching his expression shift as he processed them. “If you’re open to it there are options we can explore, but we will do it on our terms. No expectations. No pressure.”
Ren’s eyes softened, but the tension still clung to his shoulders, his brows drawn together in concentration as if weighing my words carefully. After a long moment of silence, he spoke, his voice quieter now, a thread of uncertainty weaving through the words.
“I want to, Dorian. I really do. But how?” He let out a shaky breath, his hands resting at his sides, fingers curling and uncurling. “I feel stupid for even asking.”
“You are not stupid, Ren Wickens!” I insisted. “You're one of the most intelligent young men I know, and it hurts my heart that you would think such a thing about yourself. You're young, love, and this is all new. You must be gentle with yourself.” I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement flutter in my chest. “Come with me,” I said softly, tugging gently on Ren's hand. “I have something to show you.”
Ren followed, his steps hesitant but curious as I led him down the hallway to my bedroom. The bedroom was a sanctuary of warmth and shadow, illuminated by enchanted crystals that cast a gentle, amber glow across the dark wood furniture. Books of necromancy and magical theory lined the shelves, their spines creating a comforting pattern of aged leather and gilt lettering. A protection circle was etched into the floor beneath the vintage rug, its runes glowing faintly with reassuring magic. The warm glow of the bedside lamps cast a soft, intimate light across the room, making the dark wood furniture gleam. I guided Ren to sit on the edge of the bed, its plush duvet sinking slightly under his weight.
“Wait here,” I said, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before moving to my dresser. I pulled open the bottom drawer, reaching past neatly folded sweaters to retrieve a discreet black box. My heart raced a little as I returned to Ren, sitting beside him on the bed.
“I've been doing some research,” I began, my voice gentle. “About ways we could... explore together. Ways that might help you feel more comfortable and confident.” I placed the box on my lap, running my fingers over its smooth surface. “I want you to know that there are options, Ren. Tools we can use together to explore different ways of expressing the masculinity that's already fundamental to who you are. Your identity isn't dependent on any of these things; they're just different ways to express what's already there.”
I opened the box carefully, revealing a sleek, dark leather harness and a flesh-toned silicone prosthetic. The harness was simple but elegant, with adjustable straps and a sturdy O-ring. The prosthetic was expertly crafted, its surface smooth and lifelike.
Ren's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and curiosity flickering across his face. His fingers twitched, as if he wanted to reach out and touch but was hesitating.
“This prosthetic and harness were specifically designed for trans men,” I explained softly, my voice low and gentle. “It’s supposed to help them feel more comfortable and confident during intimate moments.” I paused, watching Ren's face carefully. “I want to be absolutely clear, love. This is about adding to your options, not replacing or changing anything about you," I explained softly. "You're already completely masculine, completely valid as you are. This is simply a tool, like my ritual implements. Something to channel what's already there, not define it.”
I set the box aside and took Ren's hands in mine, my thumbs tracing small circles on his palms. He looked at the harness and prosthetic for a long moment, his fingers curling slightly, as if he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure. After a pause, I spoke again, my voice steady but gentle.
“This is simply an option, if you want to explore it. There's no pressure, no expectations. If you never want to use it, that's perfectly fine. If you want to try it someday, that's fine too. And if you decide you love it and want to use it all the time, that's wonderful as well.”
Ren's eyes flickered between the box and my face, his expression a mix of curiosity and apprehension. I could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he processed this new information. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You... you got this for me?”
I nodded, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. “I did. But remember, there’s no pressure to use it if you’re not comfortable.”
Ren bit his lower lip, a habit I’d come to recognize as a sign of his inner turmoil. “I... I don’t know what to say,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly.
My heart swelled with affection for this beautiful, vulnerable young man before me. “You don’t have to say anything, love,” I murmured, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You deserve to feel comfortable and confident in your own skin. If this helps with that, even a little, then it’s worth it. And if you never want to look at it again or speak of it, that’s fine too.”
Ren leaned into my touch, his eyes closing for a moment. When he opened them again, there was a slight flush to his cheeks. “Can I... can I try it on?” he asked hesitantly.
“Of course,” I said, smiling warmly. “Would you like some privacy, or would you like me to help?”
“I... I think I'd like your help,” Ren said softly, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink.
I nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and tenderness bloom in my chest. “Of course, love. Let's start with the harness, shall we?”
With deliberate slowness, I helped Ren remove his clothes, my fingers trailing over his skin with reverence. Each inch of him revealed a new marvel, his body lean and beautiful in its own way. As I eased his shirt off, I couldn't resist pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder, admiring the strong lines of his body, the natural grace in the way he moved. Every inch of him radiated quiet masculine energy that had nothing to do with clothes or accessories. It was simply him, undeniably himself.
Step by step, I helped him into the harness, adjusting the straps with gentle precision. The leather was soft and supple, molding against him in a way that felt right, that felt like it belonged. When I attached the prosthetic, I could feel Ren's breath hitch, his body tensing briefly.
“How does it feel?” I asked, my voice low and soothing, a careful question.
Ren didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned, slow and deliberate, and faced the mirror. In the mirror, I watched Ren take in his reflection, his eyes widening with recognition rather than surprise, as if he was finally seeing on the outside what he'd always known was there inside. His confidence didn't come from the prosthetic itself, but from the way it aligned with his inner truth, like the final piece of a spell clicking into place.
I could see the shift in him, subtle at first. His shoulders straightened. His chin lifted just slightly, and a small smile began to tug at the corners of his lips, growing slowly, like it was something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time.
His hands, which had been clenched at his sides, slowly uncurled. Fingers reached out tentatively to trace the outline of the prosthetic, as if confirming it was really there. Then, with a quiet confidence, he lifted his arms, flexing his biceps ever so slightly, and I saw the way he held himself differently, as if he had unlocked something in himself that had been waiting for this moment.
“You look...” I paused, my voice thick with emotion, “Incredible.”
Ren’s eyes flickered back to me, and for the first time, I saw something in them I hadn’t seen before, a spark of power, of affirmation, like he was seeing himself clearly for the first time.
A slow breath escaped him, and he gave me a soft, almost disbelieving smile. “I didn’t expect to feel... like this,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I feel... I don’t know. Just more... at home in my body.”
I stepped closer, my hand resting lightly on his arm. “That’s the only thing that matters, love. That you feel good, however that looks. You’ve always been yourself, with or without this.”
The confidence radiating from him wasn't new. It was the same masculine energy I'd always seen in him, the same strength that drew me to him from the beginning. It was just more visible now, like sunlight breaking through clouds, illuminating what had always been there.
A grin spread across his face, wide and joyful, lighting up the room. His hand trailed down his body, fingers grazing the harness before resting lightly on the prosthetic. He didn’t linger; his touch was thoughtful, almost reverent, as though it was a part of his personal discovery rather than something new defining him.
The air around us felt charged, a subtle shift in the atmosphere that made my chest ache with affection. I couldn’t look away from him. The confidence radiating from his posture, his expression, his being was intoxicating. It wasn’t about the harness or the prosthetic; it was Ren . He had always been powerful, always himself. Now, he was standing in that truth with a clarity and comfort that made my heart swell with pride.
He took a step toward me, his movements deliberate and sure. The energy in his stride, the light in his eyes, was intoxicating. He stopped just inches from me, his breath warm against my cheek.
“Kiss me,” he said, his voice steady and confident.
I didn’t hesitate. My lips met his with a hunger that caught me off guard, the kiss sparking an electric current between us. Ren’s confidence only deepened the connection, his body pressing against mine with a sureness I’d never felt from him before. His hands, once hesitant, now roamed boldly, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
When we finally broke apart, both of us breathless, Ren’s eyes were dark and full of want. “Touch me,” he whispered, his voice husky, his hands guiding mine. “Please.”
My hand trailed down his chest, pausing over the rapid beat of his heart. Beneath my palm, I felt the rhythm of his life, his energy, his being. I let my fingers brush the edge of the harness, where leather met skin, tracing a line that felt intimate and reverent.
“Is this okay?” I murmured, my voice low and steady, though my own heart raced in time with his.
Ren nodded, a soft whimper escaping as his hips shifted forward, his need palpable. I moved lower, my fingers wrapping gently around the prosthetic. The moment I did, Ren let out a shaky breath, his eyes wide with wonder.
“Oh,” he gasped, his voice trembling but filled with awe. “I can... I can feel that. Not physically, not exactly, but... I feel it.”
I smiled, my thumb brushing over the enchanted surface as I watched his reaction. “It’s enchanted,” I explained softly and with a smile. “Did I forget to mention that part?”
His laugh was breathless, full of warmth and disbelief. “You didn’t think that was important enough to tell me?”
I chuckled, my hand tightening slightly, and his laughter turned into a moan. “I wanted you to discover it for yourself,” I said, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth.
Ren’s grin was radiant, his confidence and joy lighting up the room. “You’re unbelievable,” he murmured, pulling me closer.
“And you’re extraordinary,” I replied, my voice thick with emotion. “Always have been.”
“What I am is so turned on I can’t even think,” he replied.
I pulled back slightly, my forehead resting gently against Ren's. For a moment, the world outside vanished. All I could feel was the warmth of his body against mine, the steady rhythm of our breaths mingling, and the sound of our hearts beating in unison.
“I don't want to rush you,” I whispered, my thumb brushing along the line of his jaw. “I want you to be ready. To know that you're in control.”
Ren closed his eyes, a soft breath escaping him, his chest rising and falling beneath my hand. I could feel the weight of everything on him—tomorrow, the ritual, the fight we still had to win. But here, in this moment, there was nothing but us. No distractions, no expectations. Just us .
But Ren seemed different tonight. More focused, more certain of something. I could feel it in the way he held himself, the way his gaze never left mine, as if he was searching for something more than comfort. Something deeper.
“I want this,” he murmured, his voice barely audible against my lips. “I want you to teach me... how to pleasure you. How to… make love to you the way you like.”
The words hit me like a spark, catching me off guard. I stayed still for a moment, searching his face, trying to understand what he meant.
I pulled back slightly, studying his face with the same careful attention I gave to analyzing complex spells. “And I will guide you,” I promised, my voice dropping to that low, commanding tone that always made him shiver. “Just as I've guided you in everything else. Do you trust me to show you?”
His breath caught. “Yes,” he whispered. “Always.”
“Good boy,” I murmured, rewarding him with a gentle kiss. “Then listen carefully. Tonight isn't about me taking my pleasure, or even about you giving it. It's about me teaching you to understand pleasure itself. How to give it, how to control it, how to master it.”
Ren nodded eagerly, his eyes dark with desire and trust.
“Words, love,” I reminded him gently but firmly. “I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes,” he breathed. “Yes, I want to learn. I want you to teach me.”