Finally, Colhern and Xala made it back to his suite. Everyone else had gone their own ways, which left the couple alone after a long night of drinks and good food. They stumbled against one another, made silly jokes, and giggled as they went toward the conversation pit. Xala had to stop Colhern from falling face first into it and led him down the steps and onto the soft cushions.

  All he could do was giggle and stare at Colhern. They fell onto the couch, Xala ontop of him, and laughed as they reveled in their own inebriation.

  Colhern’s eyes widened and he gasped exageratively, “Wait, wait! There’s a song I really wanna’ put on!” He reached for his Lectern, fumbled with it pitifully, and conjured the interface. He tapped sluggishly on the display. All over the apartment, music blossomed to life. Or rather, thrashed from a cradle of silence. It was a deep, electric sound that pounded against the walls and invigorated the sound of their minds.

  Xala could not stop his body from moving, his head nodded and his leg bounced to the beat, and he sat up, straddled Colhern, and started to move side to side. The foolishness of his movements gave way to the music itself, as Xala’s conscious body flowed into the drumming of electricity and mechanical reverberation. Lyrics bled through the beat, each word sung by a soft, gentle voice that created a stark contrast. He barely registered the words, but he consumed the collage of sound like a feast.

  His mind, a black desert inhabited with libraries of stone and corpses beneath a night sky, became invaded by red waves and exploding nebulas. He felt those crimson waves as they flooded through his body, moved his arms according to their own will, gyrated his hips according to their crashing against the cliffs of his soul, and transformed his drunken dance into dragon-like flight of motion.

  Colhern made himself known, as his hands fumbled against Xala’s shawl, gently gripped the lining over his chest, and tugged himself upward to match Xala’s position. Rather than pull him from his surreality, the tug made Xala’s eyes shimmer as he invited Colhern’s consciousness into his own. He felt Colhern’s mind and the confusion within it at the invitation. He had no idea what to do.

  Xala reached up, held Colhern’s face with both hands, and whispered, “Come and see. Step through my door.”

  His eyes were shut, he could not imagine Colhern’s expression, but soon he felt the man enter his dreamscape. He felt like a warm summer breeze just flowed into a cold room. Xala sought him out, found his presence, and the two touched. They were ambiguous bodies of shapeless form and pure thought. They were unknown to each other, except for when their hands found one another. In the immaterial, their hands were not hands. They were the memories of what hands were. They were the images of hands within their thoughts and memories that brewed masses of fingers, softness, roughness, and wrinkles.

  “What’s happening?”

  “We’re dreaming together.”

  “It feels weird.”

  “In a bad way?”

  “No, not completely.”

  In the uncertainty of their placement across the vast crimson sea, where their hands might have touched but the rest of them could have been scattered across the waves and stars, Xala leaned forward and sought out Colhern’s lips. When they were found, the nebulas above glowed and burned in their amorphous, conglomerate kiss. Their bodies pressed closer together, more parts of themselves acquired shape, until bit by bit they pressed every part of themselves together to form a mosaic of each other.

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  Xala wrapped his arms around Colhern’s neck, Colhern wrapped him around Xala’s waist, and they both fell into one another. Their bodies of assembled shapes became liquid memory, liquid imagery, liquid sensations.

  Colhern could feel the memories Xala held within himself. He could feel the pain, the sorrow, the rage. He felt them but could not tap into them. He could not see the deepest, most ancient parts of Xala’s consciousness. Perhaps he could not because of his state of mind. Perhaps their conjoined amorphality could not coincide with mortal comprehension. Xala felt and saw Colhern’s, though. He did not pry, but he did not shy away from the visuals of his life as it flashed across their amalgam. He saw the faces of Colhern’s family, the rooms he spent the most time in, the people he idolized, the foods he loved, the passive discontent with life, the joy he felt in this moment, and the safety he felt in Xala’s embrace.

  Their liquid forms descended from the heavens and hurtled for the crimson waves below.

  They collided with the crimson tide. Their essence merged with the waves that rose and fell to the rhythm. A mechanical heartbeat buoyed them across the surface, the lyrics of the music gave form to their touch against one another, and synthesized electricity rippled their liquid bodies.

  Above, in the cosmic debris, stars transformed into eyes. Hundreds of pairs of eyes stared down at them. Xala saw them, recognized their shapes, their colors, and smiled. He caressed Colhern’s thoughts in defiance of them. His victims, the many minds consumed over his short time as a hunter, all glared down at their killer at the height of joy.

  Xala mocked them in his dance. He assaulted them in his passion. He dismissed them in his love. But, he did not want Colhern to see them. Even the drunkest part of his mind would not permit Colhern to see the depths of his nature. Thus, with a thought, Xala pulled away from Colhern, caressed his thought-formed lips with a finger, and whispered, “Time to go.”

  “Kicking me out already?” Colhern muttered weakly, his breath heavy and his eyes flooded with the color of lust.

  “Only for a while.”

  Their minds retreated from the depths of Xala’s.nColhern was systematically disconnected from his mind, separated, and ousted in an instant.

  His eyes opened and he looked down at Colhern. Xala and him breathed heavily, stared into one another’s eyes, and immediately surged forward. Their clothes found the floor. Colhern pushed himself up, hooked his arms underneath Xala’s legs and back, and lifted them both up. Xala did not care, he just held onto his shoulders and kissed his chest, his neck, his face, as they went to the bedroom.

  Xala landed on the bed, Colhern’s body chased him, and the two burrowed into the soft mattress and silken blankets. Without their textile obstacles, their bodies resonated against each other in a constant thrum of heartbeats. Xala pushed his lips into Colhern’s before his journey downward began. He kissed along his jawline, down to his neck, as Colhern had done to him before, and elicited all sorts of arousing noises from him. Xala went lower, down to his chest, and before he went further, he pressed his head against his pec and listened. The drums of war battered against Colhern’s chest for Xala’s attention.

  His back arched and his hips pulled Colhern close into his legged embrace, as his hands haphazardly explored the hard planes of his muscles. Every touch was nothing compared to the sound of that beating heart. The rushing of blood pumping in and out. He was mesmerized by it. He opened his mouth and gently brushed his teeth along the skin before him.

  Colhern moaned as he felt teeth against his chest, over his heart, but did not stop. He tangled himself with Xala, glad to do it, and could not hide his arousal at the feel of his teeth against him.

  He wanted to feed. He wanted to consume. The feel of warm blood and flesh against him like this was wholly unlike the cold blooded body he experienced this with before. The cold blooded nature. The way Colhern touched him was so wonderful. So gentle. So experienced in the art of romance.

  He ripped his face away right as his fangs began to unsheath from his gums. His eyes widened and his heart quickened, momentary fear clouded his pleasure, before Colhern leaned down and kissed him.

  No fangs replaced his lips. No claws replaced his hands. No hatred replaced his love.

  Xala watched the ceiling as Colhern’s kiss traveled downward, his vision darkened, and he felt a bliss unlike any other. Colhern’s kisses slowed, the world slowed, and Xala succumbed to the sweet darkness.