House of the Swallows excerpt:

“Irdun, dear, your lover is here.”

Grabbing a pillow from his cot, Irdun flung it at the door. Smirking, Vana ducked away, then stuck out her tongue. “Stop calling him that,” he told her.

Moments later, heavy footfalls trod the stairs outside, and within a heartbeat Thissol stood in the doorway—dark, delectable, and with the most piercing green-gray eyes Irdun had ever seen. “I’m glad you have time,” said the jewel smith.

“Business isn’t so good these days.” Irdun motioned to the cracked plaster along the walls and ceiling. Bits of blue and yellow fresco littered the floor, leaving voids in an image Irdun had liked: irises waving in a field. Constant earth tremors were slowly, inexorably ruining all that was beautiful about the house. “Otherwise you’d never see me at all.”

Thissol crossed the floor in three great strides, seized him around the waist, and pulled him up into a long, deep kiss. He’s already hard, thought Irdun, but so was he. Of all the lovers he had ever had, only the jewel smith with his rough hands could make him instantly erect with just a touch, a look of his eye, or the sound of his voice. Thissol could make him crave sex where he had grown bored with it.

During more practical moments of reflection, he made a correction. Client, you fool. The jewel smith is a client. Lovers don’t pay for a fuck, and only the very foolish fall in love with whores. I still like him, though.

Breaking off the kiss, Irdun whispered, “You really shouldn’t come everyday.” Lips fastened on the column of his throat, raising marks on his flesh and sending a bolt of pleasure straight to his groin. “I come just thinking about you,” growled Thissol, “whether I’m here or not.”

How many times had Irdun heard that one before? Actually, never, just a hundred variations on the same theme: You make me so hard. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen—until the men came, spurting into his mouth or shoving their cocks up his ass. Only Thissol continued the charade after his pleasure was done. “Then you should save your money.”

“Too late,” said Thissol, pulling away. “I’ve already paid for an hour.”

“Gods, you’re going to go broke just fucking me.” I hope he doesn’t become a nuisance once his money runs out. Then Laputi will never let him come back.

Hands pushed him back onto the cot, and roamed over his bare chest, rubbing his nipples with fingers callused from working the crucible and twisting gold and silver wires. Irdun groaned, and leaned into Thissol’s touch. Sometimes he thought he might come just from this alone. “Really, you shouldn’t—”

“I thought you said business was bad.”

When Thissol bent down to take a nipple between his teeth, rolling it over his tongue before suckling hard, Irdun forgot what he was about to say. His legs encircled the man’s thighs, tugging him close, while his hips instinctively began to grind against Thissol’s chest. “The oil is on the table.”

Thissol ignored him, just kept lavishing his nipples with teeth and tongue until they were raw nubs, hard and glistening with wetness. Irdun, alternately wanting to push him away and craving more, moaned. “If you keep doing this,” he gasped, “I’m going to come.”

Only then did his lover stop and sit up. “Not without my cock in your ass, you won’t.”

Fingers slid into his kilt-band, fumbling with the ties. Irdun wriggled, and reached down to help, but Thissol pushed him away. “No, let me.”

Then the fringed garment, once fine red linen, came loose, and Thissol peeled it back to bare naked thighs and a stiff, slender cock. “Ah, what’s this?”

“I’ll tell you if you show me yours.”

Thissol pulled off his tunic, revealing firm muscles and a loincloth filled with his hard cock. Irdun loved the sight, when the men were not drunk or abusive or repulsive. When they let him, and he was in the mood, he loved teasing out the shaft, licking it all over and pumping it in his hand—a fine bit of oral play could keep a man out of his ass. Only the best customers—or the most insistent—got their turn there. Laputi did not sell his whores cheaply.

“Go ahead,” said Thissol. “I know you want to.”

Irdun tentatively rubbed the front of the loincloth, its linen so fine he could see as well as feel every nuance of cock. Then he bent to lick it, tormenting Thissol through the fabric just as the man had done to his nipples.

Groaning softly, Thissol gently pulled his head forward while rocking his hips. In another moment or two, he would loosen his loincloth and begin to feed Irdun his cock.

“You should let me suck you off,” said Irdun. “You never do that.”

“It takes too long to get it up again.” Thissol’s breath hitched as Irdun’s hand slid between his thighs to cup his balls. “I’d like to take you in every way possible, believe me, but some things I just can’t do.”

So Irdun had to enjoy what he could get, while he could still get it. I’m going to miss him when he’s gone. His tongue lapped the wet linen, following every ridge with butterfly flicks as he inhaled the man’s musky scent.

Eyes closed, he did not notice the room was shaking until Thissol’s body went rigid. A curse escaped the man’s lips, and his hand fell on Irdun’s shoulder.

Irdun crouched on the floor as the tenement swayed. His body tensed, ready to bolt for the doorway, but the shaking did not intensify. Painted plaster showered down like pollen from the wall and ceiling; the lilies and water birds flaked away from the walls into an irreparable heap on the floor.

Even after the quake stopped, he did not resume his task. “It’s getting worse,” he murmured.