Chapter Nine
It was remarkable how being fucked by a room full of dominants could clear up the mind for scientific inquiry.
Delauney and Wes spent most of the next morning in the ruins of an abandoned house overlooking the sea, walking through the steps they needed to submit an application to the Aviary.
This was where Wes’ tidy mind proved beneficial.
He sketched out a series of boxes on the gray stone floor with the end of a burned stick, guiding Delauney to stand on one of the first boxes.
“So let’s take the book we’re reading as an example,” Wes said. “The first thing the author did was state his qualifications. That’s what you’ll do when you convince this Ulysse fellow to accept you into the Aviary. Tell me what your credentials are.”
“I don’t have any,” Delauney said, bewildered.
“Incorrect.” Wes walked over to a set of lines he’d drawn on the far side of the room and blotted one out with his boot.
“What was that?” Delauney asked, feeling a little like he was back in the schoolroom, about to be upbraided for not finishing his work fast enough.
Wes smiled. “Oh, that’s just how many times I’ll make you come before we return to the harbor in Staria.
” Delauney looked at the number of lines, the smudged-out mark on the floor, and Wes’ bright grin with growing horror.
“Try again. Give me a credential. Something that puts weight behind your findings.”
“I’m...” Delauney eyed the markings. “I’m the commander of a vessel? I’m the navigator?”
Wes nodded. “That’s a start. What else?”
“You’re asking me to compliment myself,” Delauney said miserably. Wes raised his brows and took a step back, one foot hovering near another mark. “Don’t you dare!”
Wes lifted his boot.
“I designed a more accurate spectroscope,” Delauney said quickly. Wes took a measured step away from the mark. “I’ve isolated an element of the sun. I’m reasonably certain that I can isolate more.”
“That’s better,” Wes said. “Next box, please.”
Delauney stepped into the second box. “You aren’t actually numbering the times you’ll get me off, are you?”
“Now,” Wes said, ignoring Delauney’s question entirely. “What benefit can you bring to the Aviary?”
“Spirits, Wesley, how am I supposed to know that when I haven’t even started studying there, yet?” Delauney asked.
Wes gently smudged out another mark. “Hmm.”
“Now, don’t you think you can hold yourself to that,” Delauney said, wagging a finger at Wes. “You’re more of an incorrigible slut than I am.”
Wes smudged a third mark out of existence.
“Damn you, fine. I can... do things. Contribute to their research, I don’t know.”
“That doesn’t sound very convincing to me,” Wes said, edging closer to another mark on the floor.
“You’re evil,” Delauney snapped. Wes laughed. “I’d like to confirm the elements that make up the sun using their observatory, and possibly help refine their equipment to better understand the fabric of the fucking universe, so put your foot down!”
“So orgasms do motivate you,” Wes said.
“Of course they do!” Despite his irritation, Delauney smiled. “How many do you think I’ll give you after this display?”
“As many as I like,” Wes said primly, “because you’re a people-pleaser.”
“Oh, you wait,” Delauney said, even though he knew it was true.
At least the next boxes didn’t involve Delauney having to sing his own praises.
They followed a simple structure laying out his recent findings, how he discovered them, and the foundational knowledge it took to even make the inquiries in the first place.
The conclusion was simply a repetition of the first two boxes, which Delauney felt was excessive.
“You don’t need to know everything before you get there,” Wes said. “You just need to show the confidence of someone who understands the value of the work. Very good job, by the by. You still have twenty-three orgasms left.”
“And would any be forthcoming after having to compliment myself all morning?” Delauney asked, trying not to whine.
Wes laughed. “I might be convinced to be generous.”
They made love on an old stone balcony, the salt breeze in Delauney’s hair as he kissed Wes against the railing.
They took their time, lazing in the midmorning heat as Delauney kissed every inch of Wes’ warm brown skin.
Wes came twice before Delauney spilled over his palm, his face pressed into Wes’ shoulder.
He’d almost forgotten his promise to Ned, too wrapped up in Wes to notice the sun crossing its zenith. In the end, it was Wes who roused him, gathering up their things and setting off toward the town.
“I can leave you two to talk tonight,” Wes said, navigating the uneven steps down the slope. “You can always return to me afterward.”
Delauney finally remembered to be anxious, his mind sluggish in the wake of Wes’ touch.
Ned always seemed so pleased to know that as a second son, Delauney had avoided the responsibilities of a noble heir.
The last thing he wanted was to face Ned’s disappointment—or worse, his disbelief that Delauney could study in Gerakia at all.
Delauney’s reticence only grew as they neared the inn where the officers were staying. Wes must have caught him picking at his nails, because he pulled Delauney into a narrow alley before they reached the inn, his tone as practical and straightforward as ever.
“If he loves you, he’ll accept it,” Wes said. “You aren’t telling him that you’re a criminal, Delauney. You’re telling him about something you love.” He turned Delauney back toward the inn and smacked him lightly on the ass. “Go on.”
Delauney cast a yearning look over his shoulder toward Wes, but Wes gestured for him to keep going. He sighed, feeling a little foolish, and crept into the inn.
Ned was already waiting for him at the bar, but he had a mug of tea in his hands instead of his usual ale. He smiled sheepishly at Delauney as he sat down.
“I’m afraid I have to give up the last of my vices,” he said, but he didn’t look particularly distressed.
He scooted aside to make room for Delauney.
“Peter says no more children, thank you, and ale reacts badly to the herbs Alain’s little colony gave me.
At least I only have to take them for a few months. ”
“And it’s safe?” Delauney asked.
“It worked for the colony,” Ned said. “They stopped having children forty years ago, apparently. But how are you, Laney? We’ve been on the same ship, but I feel like I haven’t seen hide nor hair of you.”
Delauney jiggled his leg nervously. “Well... I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“Oh, no,” Ned said, taking a sip of his tea with a rakish smile. “Nothing serious, I hope?” Delauney felt his face fall before he could stop it, and Ned’s smile faded. “Come now, Laney, what’s the matter? Is it something at home?”
Delauney sighed. “Can we walk, Ned? Maybe while we hike up to the throne?”
“Ah, so it is serious.” Ned gestured to a serving lad and handed off his drink. “Let’s go, then.”
Delauney hadn’t expected Ned to respond so quickly. He usually kept their conversations light, content to be the relief Ned needed after a day of wrangling the ship and a gaggle of headstrong children. But as soon as he’d shown any distress, Ned seemed willing to stop everything.
They approached the throne through a narrow set of steps leading out of the town.
Madog’s Throne wasn’t actually a real seat of power—it was just a set of stones at the top of a bluff that looked vaguely like a chair.
Local legend said that sitting on it would reveal your future, but Delauney had looked out over the island from the Throne a dozen times and only ever saw the sea.
Ned remained silent as they walked, waiting for Delauney to speak. Delauney took a steadying breath, thinking of Wes making him stand in boxes, reciting qualifications he didn’t fully believe.
“I’m applying to the school of astronomy in Gerakia,” Delauney said.
Ned turned to look at him, brows raised.
“I know it seems sudden. It doesn’t seem like something I’d be interested in, but I’ve always been interested, and I...
I think I can do it, Ned. I think it’s possible.
It is possible. I know it must be a dreadful inconvenience to you. ”
Ned stopped short, staring at Delauney as sharply as Wes at his most intense. “You mentioned the stars before.”
“Yes, but it isn’t a diversion,” Delauney said. “It isn’t a passing fancy. I’m this close to finding out what the sun is composed of, and if I had access to the Aviary in Gerakia, I’m certain that I can do more.”
“I thought the sun was stone,” Ned said. “Like a mirror.”
“That would make it reflect light, like the moon,” Delauney said. “The sun emits light. You can even determine how fast it travels.”
“Travels?” Ned asked. “What do you mean, light travels? Light is light. It just is.”
“Oh, no. Haven’t you ever seen an eclipse?” Delauney asked. Ned shrugged. “Here, let me explain.”
They slowly continued their ascent as Delauney tried to describe how to measure eclipses to determine the speed of light.
Ned looked utterly baffled, but he nodded along, his brow pinching closer and closer together as Delauney spoke.
Finally, after realizing that Ned hadn’t said a word in nearly twenty minutes, Delauney’s voice faltered and broke.
After a few seconds of agonizing silence, Ned spoke up. “Delauney. I’m going to be honest with you.” Delauney’s stomach twisted in knots, turning over with every step toward the throne.
“I have no idea what you’ve been saying,” Ned continued.
“I’ve been trying to wrap my head around the concept of light moving, but it won’t stick.
And the sun being a big ball of gas? How would it even keep its shape?
How would it burn without using up its fuel?
It doesn’t make any sense to me, Laney. I know how to navigate by the stars, but that’s all.
I’m not a genius by any measure of the word. But it seems like you are.”