Note: Both of the characters depicted in this story are consenting adults. Ramona is 29 and Kalon is hundreds of years old (an adult of his species).
Come To Me
Mask spirits had a natural tendency to come into the lives of people who needed them most. At least, that's what Ramona's uncle told her when he gave her Kalon. And while it wasn't the most organic way to fulfil that supposed truth, she couldn't deny he had been right.
To say that Kalon found Ramona in a rough patch would have been an understatement. She and her wife of three years had divorced; not surprisingly, if she had to be honest. But despite the messiness of it all, the separation hadn't hurt less. There had been a time when they loved each other--or so she thought--and her heart wouldn't let that go even though it no longer held that love. Such a stupid muscle.
Ramona had done her wallowing at her uncle's house where she had been forced to move after the divorce. In between the tears, she looked for a new place and worked to save up enough buffer money to afford said place by herself. The day she left for her new apartment was the day Uncle Santiago gently passed Kalon's mask into her hands.
"Tío, are you sure?" she had asked, her voice scarcely a whisper as she recalled the spirit's long friendship with her uncle.
Santiago merely smiled. "He and I both know that you need him more than me. It's not like I'll never see him again. You'll just be down the street."
Ramona hadn't questioned it any further, carefully packing Kalon into his own box. His mask was a myriad of dark greys and sharply angled. Three, short horn-like protrusions graced the chin and jawline. Six blue eyes were painted in a half-circle array on the top half, permanently set narrowed and pensive. He made an intimidating vision, but Ramona knew that the spirit was kinder than it implied--despite that she had never actually met him before then.
She had always wondered why Kalon never appeared to her throughout her childhood of visiting her uncle's home, but the reason became very clear when he manifested in her apartment for the first time; he wasn't a fan of clothes. Though it wasn't so much that he didn't like them. He had a long tail that started thickly off of his body which made pants nearly impossible. And walking around in just a shirt was a bit ridiculous.
It took some getting used to, but Ramona's thankfulness of having Kalon's help around the place outweighed any awkwardness over his constant state of undress. His presence was a godsend; someone to help keep things tidy and remind her to eat and shower when even that got hard. But most importantly, he was company to come home to. No lonely, empty rooms that would grind in the reality of Ramona's failed relationship. What he did was simple, but it was the scaffolding for her to stand on as she slowly rebuilt herself.
The attraction was unexpected. At first, Ramona thought it was her rebound talking; an itch that needed scratching. Kalon was stability and she was fragile, but she wasn't about to use him. She couldn't actually want him like that, she initially thought.
But Ramona discovered that it was mutual; whatever it was. There were times when things certainly almost happened. Nothing more than some touches that went a little beyond what was the norm for friends. She had always pulled away though; frightened, not ready to be that vulnerable with another yet. But Kalon never pushed. He never angered.
"How about you come to me when you're ready?" he had calmly suggested after one such occasion. "If you're ever ready...this doesn't have to be what you want from me. I won't try anything until then."
He was faithful to that from then on, keeping things strictly casual with her. It was a relief, being able to put making sense of her feelings towards the spirit on the back burner while the proverbial dust cleared. No temptation to do something that she might regret later.
Ramona was eventually able to muscle the boulders off of her life's tracks. She fell into the routine of her job, reconnected with friends, and found a smile that she didn't have to plaster on. But as a year and a half went by, she found that her interest in Kalon hadn't dissipated. So when she felt truly settled and the iron grip of stress and grief around her sex drive had let up, all Hell broke loose.
It happened on one of her days off. Ramona had taken a late-morning shower and hadn't felt like getting dressed, instead choosing to lounge around in nothing but her bathrobe for a bit. 'A bit' turned into hours spent watching TV in the living room. Kalon didn't manifest until the afternoon, filling the hallway with his broad-shouldered, seven-foot bulk as he came out to find her.
His skin was light blue and carried a faint, otherworldly shimmer. The blue was interrupted by dark, almost black grey that extended over his large hands up to his biceps and then again from his clawed feet to middle-thigh. Twin horns stood among a thick, pure white mane of hair that framed his face; the mask he inhabited permanently affixed to him.
Ramona's heart thudded against her rib cage as she watched Kalon enter the room. She had already thought about this being the day. Her eyes roamed him casually; the defined muscles, his big hands, that darkly-coloured slit between his legs which hid away what she could only imagine. His cock had to be as magnificent as the rest of him. Ramona couldn't stop her thighs from shifting together.
He didn't seem to notice, or just chose not to say anything about it, and hummed at the sight of her.
"One of those days, huh?" he asked lightly, canting his head in Ramona's direction as a clear point to her non-productivity. The basket of clean but unfolded laundry by the coffee table wasn't helping her case.
Ramona shrugged. "I'm allowed to just exist for one day."
"Never said you weren't," Kalon said, an invisible smile in his tone.
He moved closer, standing angled towards the television with his arms crossed over his wide chest.
"But you know what cooping yourself up in here does to you," he said. "Maybe think about taking a walk later?"
Ramona picked at the couch seam with her fingernail. She took a deep breath; now or never.
"Or I could think about doing something a bit more strenuous," she said, standing up and bringing her hands to the loose, plush belt at her waist.
Before she could psych herself out of it, Ramona stripped off her robe. Kalon's attention was visibly grabbed, snapping over to her at the sound of fabric hitting the floor. His masked face was unreadable, but something seemed to flash in the painted eyes. He dropped his arms slowly to his sides as Ramona walked fully nude towards him.
She put her hands on Kalon's chest. A low, playfully inquisitive noise rumbled through him as he allowed her--despite his much larger size--to lightly push him back, stepping slowly until he was against the wall. His skin ran hot and she could feel his deep, even breath under her touch. Ramona looked up into his face.
