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Jag strummed his dick strings and hummed. He played a tune that started slow and grew quicker and stronger, along with Moe’s beat. It sounded like someone preparing for battle and banging their sword against their shield before charging into the fray.
Elliot squeezed his eyes shut, his lips moving as though talking silently to himself, then he took a deep breath and placed his tip in his mouth. His music weaved between Jag and Moe’s like it was fighting with them.
I shivered, goosebumps breaking out over my body.
They were perfect.
Unlike their other songs, this one didn’t have lyrics. The story was all Elliot’s dickstrument. His notes went from high to low and back up in quick succession to mimic parrying and dodging. He played faster and louder to show an attack.
I couldn’t take my eyes off them, and not just because of the cocks. They were better than any movie, and all they had was sound.
When Moe’s ass cracked loudly, I imagined the shieldmaiden’s shield shattering. When Jag’s strumming and Elliot’s playing reached a crescendo, I imagined her final attack against her enemy. They dropped to a softer, slower tune, evoking the heartbreak after a fight, after killing, after loss.
I knew it well. I had never been to war, true, but I had fought, robbed, and killed. I knew the emptiness and regret that followed.
As they finished playing, Elliot opened his eyes, removed his mouth from his cock, and sighed as though a weight was lifting from him.
Jag gaped at me. “You’re crying!”
I touched my cheek, and my fingers came away wet. Huh, I hadn’t noticed.
Jag’s cock shrank back to normal size, and he shuffled to me with his shorts still around his knees. Getting to me was more important than pulling up.
He pulled me against his chest and stroked my hair with one hand. Before I could tell him I was fine, it was just the song, Moe and Elliot were at my side, wrapping their arms around both me and Jag.
I had never felt so cozy, so safe, and… well, loved. I could have stayed there for hours, for days. I could have cried and confessed why their song had gotten to me.
But we had people to rescue. So I swallowed my pain and pushed out of their arms.
“I’m okay. Your song was beautiful.”
“Enough to make a bad-ass witch cry?” Moe said. He had pulled up his pants before rushing over. “Yes! I mean, no. Sorry for making you sad but yes for rocking ass.”
I laughed and squeezed his hand. “You’re the best band I’ve ever heard.”
Jag crossed his arms and grinned. “I know.”
Elliot’s eyes widened in surprise. I wanted to hug him and reassure him. But if I touched him, I wouldn’t be able to let go, and we had people to save. So instead, I turned to Ram.
He unlocked the book and flipped it open on the table.
“Your song worked!” I said.
Jag and Moe cheered while Elliot nodded once.
I rounded the table to stand close enough to Ram that our arms brushed. It was just so I could gaze down at the strange symbols on the yellowed pages, no other reason. “Anything?”
“Give me a minute.” Ram flipped between pages. “I need to write down these translations.” He turned his face toward me, our noses nearly touching. “You know more about portal magic than I do. You might be able to make sense of this.”
“I’ll run upstairs and find printer paper and pens,” Elliot said, already turning and dashing between the bookshelves.
Ram and I spent the next six hours working on the book’s translations and spells. The writers had decided to be clever little fuckers and write everything in verse and riddle. We drew and redrew possible magical circles before settling on a version to test. Ram taped four sheets of printer paper together, and I drew the circle with its many complex symbols across it. Ram double-checked every line.
“You know,” he said, “we work well together.”
Maybe it was because I hadn’t slept or eaten in days and was living off energy potions, but it felt right to be working with Ram. Being with him was easy for the first time in seven years.
Had it been that long since we were friends?
