1. It's Just Magic

Sam looked over at Chris. Hopeless. The boy was snoring with his comic book strewn over his chest, and while part of Sam was jealous because he was damn tired and wanted a nap himself, the other part of him – the copper part – was annoyed.

“Oi, wake up.” He reached over, grabbed the comic book, and started slapping Chris with it. Chris’ eyes flew open and he started in the seat as if he was getting ready to fly out of it.

“Mom! What! I! What?” Chris looked around, confused. “Oh, Boss. Sorry.” He took the comic book as Sam handed it to him. He looked very guilty, and Sam was not in the mood to coddle him.

“We’re on a stake out, Chris, you need to stay on your toes.”

Chris looked even more confused. “Bad balance, there, Boss. Standin’ on your toes. Fall over.” He shook his head, as if speaking from experience. Sam just stared at him, amazed.

“Chris, that’s not…that’s not…never mind.” Sam turned to face out again.

“Look, Boss, no one’s gone in or out of that ‘ouse for hours. Why we here?” Chris whined.

“To make sure that no one has gone in or out of that house for hours.” Sam said grimly, folding his arms. He hated it, and he was as convinced as Chris was that this was one damn pointless exercise, but what the Guv wanted, the Guv got.

Chris fiddled with the comic book, dropping it twice, and Sam considered how much trouble it would be to strangle the boy and dump his body in the canal. He reconsidered, thinking that Ray might get upset about that, then reconsidered again as he dwelled on the deep, everlasting joy of upsetting Ray.

“Boss?” Chris peered at him.

“Yeah?” Sam blinked, realizing he was staring at Chris.

“Uh, why you, you know, lookin’ at me like that?”

Since the honest reply sounded a bit psychopathic, Sam lied. “Your eyes.”

“Oh yeah, I know. Mom says it’s because I’m a witch.”

Sam stalled, unprepared for that idea to ever accost his brain.

“A…witch?”

“Well a guy witch, you know, a bloke, ‘cause I’m a bloke, you know, not a bird.” Chris nodded thoughtfully, focusing on the wrong part of Sam’s confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“My eyes, you know, all mismatched and all.”

Sam leaned over and inspected Chris’ eyes. “Bloody ‘ell, they aren’t the same color…”

“No, uh, no. Thought that was what you were, er, lookin’ at.”

“No, I was thinking about killing you and dumping your body in the canal.” Sam sighed and leaned back in his seat. Ignoring Chris’ startled look, Sam stayed on topic. “So mismatched eyes means you’re a witch?”

“Mum says so. Guess she’s right, being Mum an’ all.”

“Right.”

They sat in silence for a while and Sam started tapping his foot impatiently. “So are you?”

“No, Boss, I’m fine. Don’ need to pee yet.”

Sam sighed, edging closer to the body-in-the-canal idea. “No: are you a witch?”

Chris did not answer and Sam looked over at him critically. “Oh come on.”

“Um…”

“You don’t really think you are a witch!” Sam smiled, grinning, amused by the absurdity that was Chris.

“Here.” Chris closed his eyes and squinted his face, set his lips like a tightly puckered flower and blew out, and suddenly Sam was caught in a swirl of petals, pink and red flowers drifting about the inside of the car, nearly a foot deep. Sam bounced around, catching petals, holding them, crushing them in his hands, getting dizzy on the fragrance.

“Jesus! Chris!” Sam yelled excitedly. “What’d you DO?”

“I don’ know, Gram taught me that one.” Chris smiled benignly and stirred up the petals with his feet.

“I…I’ve never…that’s impossible!” Sam held a handful of petals to his face.

“No, jus’ magic.”

Sam dropped the petals and looked around. They were still on the stake out, and the windows were cracked open, but nothing had changed other than that several buckets worth of flower petals now filled the car.

“Hate doin’ it in a car, takes forever to get the petals out…” Chris looked with a forlorn expression at the backseat which was drowned in petals. There were petals in his hair and his perfectly odd eyes were glossy and Sam stared at him.

“Oh my god, you’re beautiful.”

“Oh no…”

“Yes, yes you are.”

“No!” Chris waved his arms in front of him. “No! Side effect! Bad!”

“But Chris, you really are…just…handsome.” Sam sat back and stared at him as petals drifted through the air.

“No, Boss, that’s just…oh no...” Chris shook his head and Sam was mesmerized by the way his hair moved. “Flowers, they do that, magic flowers, yeah? They give you…bad ideas. Don’t smell!” Chris yelled and started rolling down the window. Sam watched the way his shoulders moved and decided that the canal idea was bad bad bad. No, Chris was precious and beautiful and must be adored, just like the flowers. Sam scooped up more petals and held them to his face.

“No!” Chris high pitched scream broke the air. “Don’t smell! Bad!”

Sam reached out and shoved the handful of petals into Chris’ face. Chris fought him off but clumsily, and as he bat the petals out of Sam’s hands, Sam just scooped up more and smothered Chris again. By the third attack Chris relaxed, and was rubbing his face into Sam’s damp hands, which were coated in the oils and scents of the crushed petals.

“Boss, jus’ a spell…bad idea…”

Sam ran his fingers delicately over Chris’ face. “Can’t you break it? Break the spell?”

“Mmmm…yeah, but first we’d need a branch from a fifty year old tree…”

“The park?” Sam ran his hands down Chris’ neck and leaned over, out of his seat, pushing himself towards Chris.

“…an’ a bottle of mugwart tincture…”

“Mmmm…”

“…and a feather from a cockatiel…”

“Chris…” Sam fell on Chris’ lips, hovering over Chris’ lap as he wrapped him into a kiss.

It was a sloppy experience and Sam went dizzy from trying to keep up with Chris’ frenzied explorations. He grabbed Chris’ face to keep him still, and pushed into a deeper, darker kiss full of tongue and teeth. He felt Chris’ hard-on against him and he sat down, pressing into Chris, causing the boy to moan into his mouth.

Sam launched himself out of Chris’ lap into the back seat. Chris turned to look at him, confused and glowing in arousal, and Sam reached out and dragged him back with him. Sam undid his trousers and freed himself, stroking his erection as Chris clambered around and settled uncertainly against the side door. Every action they made stirred the petals, and by the time they stopped moving they were layered in flowers. Sam laughed and pulled Chris on top of him and they started grinding, Sam’s naked cock pressing up against the massive bulge in Chris’ trousers.

“I want more…”

“It’s the flowers, y’know, really…” Chris gasped, his eyes closed while he tried to talk coherently and pump himself against Sam in abandonment at the same time.

“Do this…to anyone?” Sam reached down, desperate to hold onto Chris’ ass.

“No…no…Gram says…it only takes what’s there.”

“Ey?”

“Only take…what…ohhhhh oh oh…” Chris began humping erratically, and Sam threw him back against the door, but Chris was finally beyond reasoning and grabbed for him, ripping down his pants as he muscled Sam towards him. Not sure of what Chris wanted, Sam let him, and ended up face down with his bare ass against Chris’ chest as Chris ran his hands under Sam’s shirt, all over and around Sam’s back and chest, over and over, and Sam realized that he was scooping up petals as he did so, rubbing the oils into Sam’s skin and sending electrical charges through him.

“Come on…please…” Sam was breathless, crawling up the back seat, covered in petals. Chris nodded and settled with his back to the door and pulled Sam to him, dragging him by his thighs, bringing his ass to his face. As Sam pushed his knees into Chris’ thighs, Chris pulled Sam’s ass cheeks apart and leaned in. Sam was delirious, only once ever before experiencing this, and he dragged his face over the back seat, smelling the flowers and feeling Chris’s tongue as it lapped around as if Sam’s ass was some kind of salacious sphincter of serendipity. Sam realized that once this was over, he was definitely going to have to kill the boy, because no one alive could know about this, much less god forbid Gene.

Chris moved his tongue in a slow spiral, starting out and slowly working in, and reached one hand under Sam to start petting Sam’s erection. As Chris’ tongue dipped into him, pushing into him, Sam changed his mind yet again and decided that he would just keep Chris as his love slave forever, because killing him would ruin that glorious tongue. Chris’ tongue ran in and out of him ceaselessly for hours, or so it seemed, and then suddenly it was not his tongue, and Sam bucked at the feeling of Chris’ finger plunging into him.

“Oh, oh Boss, yeah…” Chris was moaning and Sam curved around to look at him. His head was thrown back as he finger fucked Sam, and he pulled out his own erection and was pumping it like an inexperienced boy, gulping for air. Sam looked down between his own legs and saw Chris’ hard-on, a thickly veined battering ram that needed something to attack. Sam moved forward, and reached around, pushing Chris’ finger out of him, and it was terrible to feel so empty, but he needed more. He twisted and filled his hands with spit as Chris looked at him in his perpetual state of surprise. He bumped Chris’ hands away and coated his cock and Chris’ eyes became wide.

“Oi, Boss, I don’t…”

“Oh but you will.” Sam grinned as he turned his back on Chris again and sat down on his lap, slowly, rolling his hips for the angle. Chris’ hands grabbed his waist but did not push or pull, just squeezed as the tip of his cock sank into Sam. Another few centimeters and Chris was nearly wailing, trying to thrust hard, but Sam was not ready for that so he set his hands under him, on Chris’ hips, and put his weight there to hold the boy down. He pushed himself down again, gaining more, and it was hot and the spit would not be enough but Sam did not care. Finally Chris was shaking, his entire body quivering in excitement and pressure, as Sam sank down all the way. He pulled Chris’ arms up so they wrapped up the front of Sam, Chris’ hands pulling down on his shoulders, and then he leaned back against Chris chest. He never noticed before, with all of the boy’s clumsy goofing, but he was very muscular and strong.

“Fuck me, Chris, now is the time you start fucking…” Sam gasped, and Chris took his cue for once and began pumping into Sam. Reaching down, Sam took his own cock, which he uncomfortably realized was significantly smaller than Chris’ well-blessed endowment, and started stroking. Size be damned, it felt good, and the flower petals swirled around them, rising up into the air, drowning them as Sam panted and moaned and Chris gave over to a curious yelping.

“Flowers…they…” Sam looked in surprise, realizing that they were not stirred up, they were simply floating.

“S’me, Boss…oh oh…god…” Chris whined and gasped for breath in between yelps. “Things float when I get…close…oh…”

It was the only warning Sam had before Chris slammed into him will a shout, and Sam came the moment after with the sensation of Chris’ cock throbbing hard inside of him. The petals fell instantly, and Sam looked around, feeling very exposed with the veil of flowers gone. He leaned further against Chris, who was breathing for air like a marathoner.

“Never…done it…”

“It’s different with men, Chris, but that doesn’t mean…” Sam’s mind clicked back on, even as he sat half naked on Chris’ wilting dick.

“No, I mean, never, Boss. Never done it.”

“…shit. You’re a virgin?” Sam froze in horror, never imagining this, although in retrospect he decided he should have known.

“Uh, I don’t think so anymore, Boss…” Chris giggled. Sam turned enough to wrap an arm around Chris’ shoulders, and kissed him. Chris kissed back, and he tasted odd. Sam kissed more deeply and realized that he tasted like the smell of the flowers, sweet and spicy like mango, and that’s when he realized that Chris did not taste like the flowers, but the flowers smelled like Chris.

He pulled them apart and they put themselves back together, Chris blushing furiously, and then they opened the car doors and started swishing out the flower petals into the alley. Sam grabbed a few and stuffed them in his pocket.

“Chris?” Sam asked as he knelt in the foot well of the driver’s seat, dragging petals out. He smelled his hand and started getting another hard on, and forced himself to keep at the cleaning.

“Yeah, Boss?” Chris was in the backseat, cleaning out the back window shelf.

“Ray?”

“Oh ‘e knows I’m a witch, you know, sometimes ‘ard not to turn take out chippie into a mince pie. Just get hungry…”

“Never the flower thing?”

“Oh!” Chris yelped in terror at the prospect. “No!”

“Mmmm.” Sam stuffed even more petals into his pocket and tried to figure out how to keep it that way. Chris? Ray? No, not allowed, at all, Chris was not for sharing with anyone. Those mis-matched eyes were for Sam, alone. He was back to his considerations of the canal, and a much better choice of victim for it.

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