The Price of a Potion

It was something about the potions on the back shelf, glimmering with specks of light, that made it impossible for Renatus to look away. Maybe these were the very thing he'd be leaving here with today, the solution to the problem that had been eating away at him. He was still staring when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Are you going to buy anything or just stare all day?" Constans asked, gentle but brusque. "You know I'm running a business here."

"Um. Sorry." Renatus turned from the potions. "I'm not here to--I mean--well. Um." Constans was well-muscled enough under his crisp shirt that he could clearly hurt Renatus if he wanted to. Best to watch what he said. "What do those potions do?"

Constans chuckled. "I'll tell you if you need one. Most of the time I leave them here to catch the eye."

"I see."

"I'd recommend one of these." Constans thrust a paper-wrapped bottle into Renatus' hands. "You look like you need it."

Renatus looked up at him, baffled. "How did you know?"

"Your back's been giving you pain, more than it should at twenty. I can see it in the way you walk." Constans stepped behind Renatus and pressed his fingers to Renatus' spine, businesslike. "This will ease that in a trice."

"Oh." Thinking about it with Constans' fingers applying warm pressure through his shirt, Renatus realized the awkwardness with which he'd been holding himself these past few days, the ways he'd contorted himself to avoid the pain without even noticing it was there. "Thank you. And the cost--"

"A few pennies. This is one of the simplest things I can make."

Renatus took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "That isn't what I came here to ask about."

"Oh?"

"Do you--do you know Rosalia?"

"We've met. What of her?"

Here was a topic Renatus could speak on for minutes if not hours. Gone were his hesitancies and verbal stumbles as he began to catalog Rosalia's every virtue--

Constans waved a hand. "That's enough. I see. You want to impress her?"

"Yes. Very much."

"Strength for you, then, or intelligence?"

"No, not--"

"Charm? I can make that, but it'll cost you."

"No, I want--"

"Or do you need her father out of the way? Strict, that man is."

"A love potion," Renatus blurted. "I want a love potion."

Constans furrowed his brow and regarded Renatus in silence for a moment. "I don't make those," he said at last.

"Please. There has to be a way."

"Did you not hear me?"

"I need it," Renatus said, petulant, and hated the sound of his own voice. Without a love potion, how could Rosalia ever love someone like him?

"It's unethical." But in Constans' eyes, Renatus saw the spark of challenge. Maybe there was a chance.

"I'll do anything," Renatus found himself saying, and dropped to his knees before Constans to show just how desperate he was.

For a moment, Constans just looked down at him, thoroughly baffled. But then Renatus saw something kindle in his eyes, and he reached down to tip Renatus' chin up with one finger. "Anything, boy?"

Renatus swallowed. He couldn't take his eyes away from Constans' face, the thing almost like hunger that he saw in it. "Uh."

"You know, if I'm going to be violating my professional ethics anyway," Constans said, "I might as well get something out of it. Alongside the usual fee, of course."

"What do you--"

"You're not as stupid as you're pretending to be."

No, he wasn't. He closed his eyes. Why was there some kind of stirring between his legs--he didn't want--he couldn't be--no. "I'm not," he whispered.

"Never done this before?"

Renatus shook his head.

"All right. I'll make it easy for you. Stand up." Constans' fingers tightened under Renatus' chin and pulled him up to his feet. Briskly, Constans touched his back, squeezed his arm, and palpated his neck in a way that felt almost medical. How odd it was, then, when Constans' hand moved to his chest, squeezing his pec, then fingers dancing across his nipple. He heard a squeak and realized it had been himself. The stirring between his legs was greater, now.

"Lovely," Constans murmured.

Renatus threw a wild glance at the door. "Here? Couldn't someone see?"

"Upstairs." Constans made for a door behind the counter. Renatus hesitated. Could he really go through with this?

Constans looked back. "You want your love potion, son?"

"Yes."

"Then you're coming upstairs."

Renatus trailed him up the stairs. His heart beat audibly in his ears--fear, it must be, he told himself. But then why was he imagining what the potion seller would look like under his clothes?

Constans' bedroom was sparse and clean. Renatus only got a short glimpse of a chair, a table, a neatly-made bed before Constans was flicking open the buttons on Renatus' shirt, one-handed, one at a time. He couldn't suppress a gasp when he felt the chill on his skin. Then Constans seized his neck and pulled him into a sloppy kiss--what, Renatus wondered, was one supposed to do with one's lips when--and then trailed kisses and little bites down his neck to his chest. The sounds he heard himself making were shameful enough that he could feel his face flushing completely red, and he could feel his cock responding in earnest now. He was still breathing hard when Constans pulled away to look at him.

"I'm sorry," Renatus managed to get out.

"Don't be," Constans said. "You're a sweet one." He removed Renatus' shirt all the way and tossed it casually onto the floor. "On your knees."

Renatus swallowed and lowered himself hesitantly to his knees. "Are you going to--"

"Yes, of course I am," Constans said, unbuttoning his own pants to show his half-hard cock. "And it seems like you're going to like it."

"I--" He couldn't deny the evidence between his legs. "Can we make this quick?"

Constans smirked, then took Renatus' hair in his hands, tugging his head back. Renatus gasped, which Constans took as an opportunity to place the finger of his other hand in Renatus' mouth. "Suck," he ordered roughly.

The fingers were thick and slightly salty, a heavy weight on his tongue. Renatus ran his tongue over them and breathed through his nose, trying not to gag.

"I said suck, boy."

It took a few tries before Renatus could get his mouth to do something that resembled sucking, but once he figured it out, the motion was smooth and easy. Above him, Constans groaned. "What a sweet little mouth," he said, hoarse.

Then the fingers withdrew. Renatus closed his eyes. This was his last chance to turn back--but he'd made his choice when he followed Constans up the stairs, hadn't he. It was for the potion and Rosalia, he told himself, only for Rosalia, but he couldn't even bring himself to believe that now.

When Constans' cock entered his mouth, he froze. It was thicker than the fingers had been, and he feared, suddenly, that he might gag, and that Constans would throw him out without the potion and it would have all been for nothing--and then Constans' fingers curled gently in his hair, and he remembered to breathe through his nose and began to suck, moving his mouth back and forth along the shaft.

"No need to--mmh--choke yourself," Constans said laboriously. "Your hands. Instead."

Renatus moved his hands up and began to make use of them.

"Good boy."

And that went straight to his cock. Renatus thought of himself, on his knees, servicing a man and being praised for his efforts, acting like nothing more than a common slut, being used for someone's pleasure, and couldn't hold back a groan of his own. One hand flew to his cock--he'd never felt this way before, not even thinking about Rosalia--and he ground desperately against his own hand for a few blissful seconds until Constans made a noise of disapproval.

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" Constans said, with a tug on Renatus' hair.

Renatus made a vague, needy noise around Constans' cock.

"I thought not." He began to thrust more deeply, and Renatus teetered on the verge of gagging, his own cock throbbing as he continued to work with his hands and mouth. Constans groaned sharply, then said, abruptly, "Just to warn you--"

Renatus pulled back, freeing up his mouth. "Wait."

Constans, breathing hard, glared down at him with more wrath than Renatus thought he'd ever seen from anyone before. "You'd better have a good reason for this."

"I want--I mean, I think... for the cost of the potion, it'll... um." What were these words that were spilling out of his mouth?

"What?" Constans snapped.

"I want you to take me," Renatus said quickly, staring at the ground, face red-hot.

At that, a smile spread over Constans' face. "Damn your timing, boy, but I'm not going to say no."

"To offset the cost."

"Yes, of course." Constans gestured. "Get on the bed."

Constans had meant, apparently, that he wanted Renatus face-down, bent over the edge of the bed, pants pulled down past his buttocks. The pressure on his cock felt so good that he couldn't resist thrusting into the bed a little until a quick slap from Constans put a stop to it. "Patience, boy," he said.

There was a sound of a bottle being unscrewed, then oiled hands being rubbed together. Then there were cold, oily fingers between Renatus' buttocks, and he squeaked. "Relax," Constans whispered, and a finger rubbed once, twice, around his anus, then gently pushed its way in. And, oh, the sensation of being touched in this way, of being filled, was like nothing Renatus had ever experienced before. Constans pumped with one finger, then with two, and then, somehow, three. Renatus squirmed under his ministrations.

"What a pretty tight hole," Constans murmured, and curled his fingers. The sound that came out of Renatus then was more akin to a shout. In a trice, Constans clamped a hand over his mouth. "Shh. We don't want to alert the whole town."

"Sorry, sorry, I've never--"

"I know."

More oil, and then Constans pushed his way inside Renatus with a grunt. As Constans began to thrust into him, he found words spilling out of his mouth, a fountain of pleading, of incoherence--fill me take me yes sir please--until Constans grabbed his hair and began to thrust harder, faster. Then Renatus could only whimper with desire, grinding himself into the bed, unable to think about anything but the sweet pleasure of being filled, of being used, of being degraded in this way.

Pleasure built and built inside him, until, with a gasp, he came, seed puddling under him and soaking into the bedclothes, but Constans wasn't done yet. He continued to thrust into Renatus, roughly, shamelessly, rubbing against places that were too tender, now. Renatus, still in the glow of orgasm, bore it bravely, keeping silent but for his hard breaths.

Constans gasped and then came with a grunt. Renatus felt the pumps of hot seed inside him and was only mildly horrified to hear his own delighted sigh.

Constans pulled out from Renatus, then pulled him briskly back up from the bed. "Clean yourself up." He looked down at the bed. "Oh. What did I say about that, boy?"

Renatus flushed red. "I'm sorry. I, uh, I can clean it up."

"You'd better."

They worked out a deal: Renatus would launder the sheets in exchange for a slight increase to the purchase price of the love potion, offsetting the discount he'd received for his--Constans' mouth quirked--services. "And," Constans added, "I don't always say this to my boys, but if you need another discount someday..."

"I couldn't," Renatus blurted. It was hard to believe that had really been him, upstairs, mouth on another man's cock, even asking to be used--he hadn't wanted it, he couldn't have wanted it, but a traitorous part of his mind was already whirling with excuses to need another potion, ways he could ask for a discount.

The love potion was to be delivered in seven days. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you. Good luck with Rosalia," Constans said. "May she be as lovely as you imagine."

That night, Renatus didn't dream of Rosalia.