Hit by Pitch

TYKE

Central Arch is what was once a plain of behemoths. It's been reduced to 850 acres of fields surrounded by hostile spear-headed fences, an ominous gate with two sculpted sphinxes for public entry on Fifth Avenue. Across a tracing paper-like wing shielding my face, my eyes follow a giant thick band of glass rising high up in the sky. It stems from one side of the park, vaults above it, then descends on the other side of it. A giant translucent ribbon stretched across the skyline, gifting the area a demi ring electroformed with neon lights switching from purple to green to orange.

My nose is pulsing in rhythm with the lights. Nearly broke that little guy. Fortunately, it's not the first time my septum has been deviated. I know how to fix him; it only takes a snap.

And if it's a painful reminder of our luck, then I'll even take it with a smile. I'm just glad Fay made it out of Citi Field Stadium before my knees hit the ground and I got clubbed in the face. I wouldn't have wanted her to see that. Hell, thinking back on it, she sure skirted trouble in the narrowest way possible. Four trolls infiltrated my left and right, ensnaring my limbs, a grasp of my hair forcefully wrenching my head downward. From then on, I did not move. Did not resist.

I never resist.

Two of them clamped down on my arms while the others began tanning my hide, and getting those security trolls to believe I was a cop became an instant challenge. My badge was tucked in the back pocket of my jeans, and no matter how I tried to tell them, they refused to release my arms even as blows rained down on me, breaking off every damn word out of me.

"Go get the fairy!" one of my grapplers shouted.

My heart leaped out to Fay. "Arkarn'ha!" I managed to shout, using a term impossible to translate into Faerish. The closest meaning I can think of is, 'Be on the right side of your heart, and your soul will be freed.' Eyes on the ground, I spat blood, stuck in panic. "Ban Akra'gho, Ena Lul Kurv!" I had to tell them she was my girl, tell them she was innocent.

The beating lessened in intensity, making me think that someone had suddenly backed away. "Fairy lover, she used magic. You know what that implies," said another at my back. I knew what it meant. The fuck I did. Fay was to be arrested.

"Bet Kitot Nam Meh Shak Fenelom Itu." My breath was ragged, and so was my uncertainty. If they had gotten to Fay, I would have killed them and probably gotten killed right after. I repeated in Faerish, insisting, "Anger kills, yet so does ignorance. Akarn'ha!"

Motherfucking trolls––traitors and kin from afar, we once shared the same values, their tongues echoing the rhythms of our own. Not anymore. Language might still bridge our differences, but our ties were cut the moment they switched sides.

I loathed myself for leveraging on our shared roots, but it was a gamble I had to take, so I kept on in Orcish. "Mog Tay G'thazag, Mog Nei Larakot," I breathed unevenly. They always stop at the word Larakot. Defender of people understood nowadays as a police officer. Finally, the trolls loosened their grip, allowing me to dig out my badge and show my face alongside the precinct logo.

I shift in my sitting position and gather my knees to me, waking up a daydreaming Fay cradled between my legs.

"How's your nose?" Fay's been quiet since we arrived in Central Arch. This must be her first question in fifteen minutes.

"It's just a small bruise. Knocked my head under the counter's edge when I got up. Nothing lethal, little bug."

She mumbles something that strangely warms my blood. "I wanted to kill that lady."

I simper. "You have no idea how many people I want to kill in a day."

Although Fay would never hurt anyone, a pang of nerves claw at me. I keep replaying the scene at the ticket counter, ongoing loops of magic and shimmering wings. 'I wanted to kill that lady,' words gradually knocking any rational thought out of me as they sink in. Could Fay have killed the snake woman if I hadn't stopped her? With a swallow, I steel myself, buffing up to confront my firecracker about what happened. I turn to her, observe her lavender-colored face flecked with sparkles, her gaze lost in the small expanse of green.

"Fay, we gotta talk about your magic. It's been gnawing at me ever since we left the stadium."

She remains fixed on the horizon, a brow furrowing as it pairs with a smirk, her expression… edgy. I know this conversation could take us down a path that could screw up our last two days, but I have to tackle it.

"That wasn't some little glitter," I continue, struggling to articulate the swirling thoughts in my head. "I've seen your spell hit the snake woman, skin leaving her face... It's evolving."

A moment of silence hangs between us, but I press on. "You need to see someone who will explain how it works and how to control it."

Fay finally turns to me, her eyes reflecting a patchwork of uncertainty, kindness, and a very odd glint of determination. "No," she says, and so innocently, too, that it throws me off.

"Bug, quit acting like a kid."

Her eyes dagger me. "I did nothing to her."

"Your wings were flashing like a M-nuclear-powered lighthouse."

"It wasn't me," she insists, but it's all smoke and mirrors. She couldn't coax a flame to sip water even if she tried.

"I still think you should get them checked."

"No." She scoots a few inches from me like I am the problem.

I snicker like it ain't going to happen, snatching her ankle to drag her right back where she was.

"Stop it," she chuffs. "No talking about it."

"Fay..."

"Fine." She spins her red-flushed face at me. "My magic hasn't surfaced yet..."

Her glare; it suffocates my breath, intensifying as her lips, taut and icy, shimmer over each word with the precision of a furious witch weaving a spell. "I've got nothing. It's just glitches, my body trying to figure out what magic there is, how to manifest it or if it even can. There's nothing to be done about it."

I'm left with a few seconds without thought, frozen. She never talked to me like that. I'd rather have her shout at me than this. How this tiny bug just instilled fear in me... She didn't even raise her voice, didn't curse or anything. Just planted her two ice picks for eyes into me and wiped my soul with a frigid tongue. I watch her attack my stunned grip, her two hands tugging on my fingers as she tries to free her foot.

"Do you mind?!" Fay's nipping and lifting every finger of mine one at a time from her ankle. What she doesn't know is that I'm lifting them for her in a manner that's hard for her to detect, only to then fold them straight back around her leg. "Tyke, let me go."

"For where?" I ask, still processing how Fay's little glower had me in a paralysis state of... terror. A grunt rises in my throat. My father did warn me about females...

"Nowhere," she grumbles, abandoning my clenching hand to lie in the grass.

My grip loosens. "Heard some fae legally get some of their magic out to lower their utility bills. Why don't you do the same?"

The amount of energy in Fay has my head spinning because she gathers herself after not even ten seconds of resting in the grass, folding her legs in a crisscross, and leaning slightly back on her two hands, she blows the grittiest and loudest sigh I've heard from her to date. "It's called a Faerish Energy Center. And I won't go."

"You must."

I expect another annoyed exhale or, worse, a departure for the sky, yet she offsets me with two––this time, softer––eyes and a hand gliding down my cheek. "Bear." She cocks her head slightly and wets her lips. "I don't want my magic synthesized for electricity, fuel, or... weapons. I won't." Honks and dragon roars sound from afar, but all I can hear is the scream in her eyes. She then shifts her focus to the city before us. "Please, can we change the subject?"

I stay mute, watching her now, two pond-like irises sparkling under the moon. It's all starting to make sense now—the M-guns, those military aeriojets, and all this magic swirling around us. Until now, I've always wondered where the fae magic came from. Who was providing it? Why? Under what circumstances? Sometimes, I'd imagine Fidr such a bee queen birthing her hive, fueling or channeling her magic in a well for all her people to use freely.

I clamp down on my tongue, unbelieving the sheer ingenuity behind Fidr's gambit in manipulating her own people. Cutting utility bills in exchange for a free boost in fae power. I won't push Fay on this, certainly not when I realize what it entails: active participation in the manufacture of weapons. "There's gotta be a solution."

"A Spellagist." Her mutter is low, so low I have to guess the word, unsure whether I am wrong or right on that one.

"Then go."

"I..." Fay's teeth are suddenly at her nails, her knees gathered, and her sneakers repeatedly brushing the grass. "I'm not allowed to see one."

Allowed? She's twenty-four in October! "Who said that?"

"No one. Forget it."

"No," I say as softly as possible, mimicking the same childish tone she dared pull off at my face earlier.

Her mouth drops, and I snort at it. Maybe I'm mocking her, and maybe I want to! I will stay camped on what I said. She will see someone, even if I have to drag her, kicking and screaming, to a specialist upon my return from the mission.

She tsks and looks away. "Such an orcling."

"I'm the young one here? Magic is banned; you'll get into trouble. And if you get yourself in trouble, you get me in trouble. And we both know what happens to orcs who get in trouble..."

"What do you have to do with my magic?" she scoffs, two hard fists clenched around the grass.

"Because you think I'm going to sit tight while you get arrested?"

Mutters follow, and I can hardly make heads or tails of it. "Magic shouldn't be banned; we should be free to wield it. Maybe then I wouldn't be overflowing with it, clueless about how to fucking use it..."

Dukhal. I can't let the evening slip like that. "Come here, bug."

"No."

By Gruumsh!

With my arms wrapped around her, I lean in close. "Speaking of freedom..." I whisper, sliding a finger under her chin to tilt her face toward mine. "It's in the taste of your lips that I find it." One-of-a-kind freedom I've only ever experienced with her. And I nurture the feeling, letting the subtle contours of her lips guide mine, but not without adding, "In the hollow cavity of a dragonfly-daemon."

Fay's lips curve into a wild smile, and mine follows suit, both syncing in savage harmony.

Locked in our kiss, her laughter bursts forth, reverberating against us with this intensity I want to bathe in for as long as possible.

"A hollow cavity, really?" She tries to put on her serious face, but the impish twinkles shining in her eyes give her away quicker than heretics at an Orcish sacred gathering.

"Of a dragonfly daemon." I keep my murmur low, emphasizing the 'daemon' word. Funny how she seems to accept that part.

Our faces refuse to break apart, even as our laughter dissolves. I'm about to kiss her again when her words slice through the moment, bringing my lips to a halt. "A dragonfly deamon has nothing to do with faefolks."

My fingers enmesh behind her head, and I tense them gently, feeling as if I could shake out the negativity in her head. "Bug, I was teasing you."

"I know. I'm just saying that maybe a dragonfly daemon should not belong in a faefolk land. Maybe somewhere else..." Fay lowers her head, leaving nothing but tangles of hair in my grasp.

"Somewhere where things are different, where magic is free to use, where we're free, you know, just like you said..." She raises her head, and aims at me what willpower must look like, steel blue, unruly, steady, unsubmitting. "A place where we could run away to..."

Until now, Fay had waltzed into my heart, slammed the door shut, and melted hot iron to seal it tight. Just now, she punched a hole at the top and poured a molten shield of grit over it. I was waiting for that very signal. That she'd word her consent without me having to suggest it directly. And she gave it. It's decided. The first chance I get, I'm taking her out of here.

I lift her up like she's the most precious thing in the world and with the same care, settle her between my legs. "We will."

Fay's back tenses against me. "How?"

She's finally hinting at the fact that I'm a slave to the Faerhan nation, disguised as a captain. "We'll leave when no one's looking." I inhale and look around this cage made of...

A full moon.

Green and purple grass. Mowed.

And beneath the night, stretching towers pulsing neon light such distant drums, baring our horizon––the crushing symbol of the enemy's encroachment upon my fallen lands.

Central Arch is the last patch of wild land this city preserved.

The wounds from my past should ache as I sit with Fay on what used to belong to Orcana.

And yet, it only takes a hug from her to disperse the blackness in my mind, the gentle breeze from her lips to lift my barb-wired heart, and her warm skin on mine to restore breath into me.

"Tyke?"

I blink, suddenly realizing I was lost in thoughts if not for Fay pulling me out of them.

"Listening..."

"Do you still have a positive opinion of the fae you're with, despite her crankiness? Sometimes, she wonders why you're wasting your time with her?"

"Is that an apology, bug?" I ask knowingly, running the back of my index finger along the delicate contour of her ear.

"Yes," she mewls, turning one third of her face to reveal what the concept of supplication with eyes would look like. "Please answer my questions."

And now she's pouting.

"Taking care of what's mine is not a waste of time, and I do my best in a way only an orc can. Her moodiness is part of her color. Remove it, and the tone of her heart changes."

I can see her smile beaming from the back of her skull. Maybe not, but I know it's there.

"If she can tone it down from time to time, I wouldn't mind, either," I have to add. Why? I don't know.

I dip my chin, pinch my lips and suffer in tickling silence to the fact that humor is not a quality found in me.

Giggles come. Hushed. First hers, then mine as I drown my face in the back of her neck, concealing how much I'm fucking blushing at what I just said.

"Bear..." she breathes under a chuckle as she turns to me.

"I know."

"But you're good at so many other things." She grins all at once. "Like baseball, for example."

I'm the one pouting now. "That's the first example you have to come up with. There wasn't anything bef––"

"Let's play. I'll be the batter," she says, detangling my web of fingers around her.

"No." I tighten my grip, flushing Fay against me with a belt made of flesh.

Words of love and the mentality attached to them are uncommon among orcs. We're blunt, emotions held on a razor-edged blade, feelings blending with touch—if not for the sword plunged into our sorrowful, weakened hearts.

And yet, here I am.

Domesticated.

A ruthless beast who appears fragile at sight beguiled me to sit at her feet and worship her as a goddess. No matter how close to the truth I am, I don't mind. My cause is lost, but somehow, it made its way into her grasp, allowing her to see me for what I am.

"You're scared to get a 'hit by pitch'? I swear, last time was an accident."

I grumble at the phantom pain resurfacing over my nutsack. She destroyed them that day...

"Only if you keep your eyes peeled on the ball."

She huffs and puffs, sending glitter in my eyes as she turns to face me, clamping two hands on my shoulders, essentially killing me with her crystal stare. "I promise."

She won't, I know it. Not her fault. My cock lifts and follows her like a chick does with a mother hen. Even with pants on, I can't hide it.

"In five minutes, bug." I play with one of the rubber bracelets circling her wrist.

She tugs her arm away as soon as she feels me nudge it.

I grab her wrist and she groans, showing me a little snarl. Not a big deal. She's mine down to her apparel. It's a red elastic band found in an office drawer. My personality doesn't lend itself to being in an office, nor has my training conditioned me to, so I found something close to a bracelet and gave it to her. She had one on her wrist already. Thought it was some kind of faefolk jewelry, only to realize it's what I later learned was office equipment. Simple girl, simple things; yet, under all that, I can't help but think there are layers I'm unaware of. "Why do you wear those?"

Fay braces a strand behind my ear and exhales. "They are light and easy to carry."

My hand closes over her nape, and I pull her to me. Her smile is shy, mine anarchic. I rub a tusk against her nose, a part of me wanting to devour her. "I get that." And then I kiss her.

I fall once more. And fall...

Her head jerks out of my clasp. "Cerberios is going bonkers!" Circling around us is a golden dog full of zoomies, drooling in its sprint, panting without breaks, going nowhere in particular. "When was the last time you let him off the leash? It looks like he just broke free from the shelter."

I draw in a breath. Bloody dog.

It's great to see the dog understand a concept I won't be able to.

A younger version of me thought the world was free and mine to take, but that idea was snagged the moment we dropped our weapons. I thought I was hungry for blood from then on. Then again, faefolk removed that feeling from me, hammering my brain with words such as peace for all. Fae... they stride in the streets, wings glinting, holding themselves like gods, thin lianas of grace, magic in the eyes. Beautiful creatures, some would say...

Rotten.

Vicious.

Arrogant, spitting on us, shoving us to the back of the line, shutting down our water supply as a sick game. I can't even park my damn car without some fae deciding they own the place. Denied entry at the grocery store, pushed around on the sidewalk like we're less than dirt...

And then, there's Fay, a rare deviation defying all odds.

"You were right about baseball, Tyke..." She draws me out of my darkness, sealing her lips to mine, and I shut my eyes, taking in a sensation unlike any other. Ever since we arrived at the park, whenever our lips touch, it's like a spark goes off inside me, setting my cheeks ablaze. I've kissed Fay a million times, but tonight, under the wide-open sky of New Orc, it feels like we're defying the world, shouting, "Watch us!" She pulls back, the smile spreading over her cheeks, one I could shove my tongue in. The most dramatic part about me is that I did that not even a minute ago. "Playing it is much better. Ready?"

I smile, hands spasming over her body, kneading every round and soft spot. "Playing with your body is even better," spritzes discreetly out of me, and I hope she didn't pick up that line because I already met my pervy quota for the night. This is how intoxicating she is to me...

I must've been more damaged than I thought. Of all the creatures roaming New Orc, all it took was a unique fae to fix me in a way I don't remember being. Better, stronger, hungrier... if not for my drunkenness. I always try to numb myself, whether it is through vodkaria or Fay. Though lately, Fay has done it all by herself.

She breaks this perfect moment, showing me her back as she turns. And gathering herself first on all fours, her backside taunts me as the hem of her skirt lingers over her upper thighs, teasing my eye one slit away. My eyebrow crooks from the position offered to me, but then she pushes on her hands to soon be on two feet.

I better get up, then...

"Bat, please." Fay dives down to my crotch while I'm not yet balanced, and I tilt my head. Sha... My face is lost in a crown of wild blonde hair as Fay bends over to catch the baseball bat drooping from my grip. Fingers curl around mine, and I focus on their delicate slow clasp, all eyes on her curving back...

Big mistake, because now I'm having a hard time letting go of the bat.

She looks at me with a transversal smile that means, 'Really?'

I release my clasp along with the bat. "Let's go. My place."

In return, I get one head shake and a dangerous, fucking beddable smirk. "After a few throws." Rarely do I get nights like this, so I'll play with her, and my chest might hurt to know she's part of a species I despise the most, but gods, I've never felt the fire in it burn so bright, never so... in love. A grunt rises with the thought.

This word makes me feel weird...

This is not how I was raised...

I straighten my jeans, rub my hands, and try not to stare at her for too long again. She flutters about sixty feet away and pulls her cap down, flashing a devious wink at me. "Ready to hit it!" she shouts, hitting a practice swing.

My hands jiggle with a white leather ball, ready for that throw I'm so good at.

The park is deserted. Gates are chained and locked. Access points have been closed to the public as a result of recent events... But Fay can fly, and I can climb fences. Well, climbing is a big word; more like struggling not to fall as I carried 150 pounds' worth of dog.

I'm about to throw when Fay shouts, "Cerberios, stick around!"

Fuck, the wind blows savagely in her hair, making her look like the breeding goddess, Dafra. I could take her here in the damp grass and no one would know...

"Ah, damn it, Tyke! Anathema people." I trace my eyes to the direction her finger points. Apparently, we aren't the only ones with a knack for climbing fences. Anathemas, the humanoid-like people wearing their skulls on the outside, are having a stroll in the park...

I curl my tongue and blow a long, sharp whistle. Cerberios is in his bone stage, and I'm not sure if this couple of exoskeleton monsters will enjoy being chewed on.

"Cerberios!" She stands, all fiery and cute in her white tennis shoes, dominating the drop of the hill, taking in the view of the city, breathtaking only because she's part of it.

Cerberios runs back, a frisbee struggling to stay in one set of jaws as it is attacked on both sides. "Good boys. Hey... Hey! No fighting. Can I call you Ripper... Yeah, I'll call you Ripper." Fay turns to me for what I think is for approval.

"Ripper, in the middle, is very feisty," she tells me before devoting her attention to the dog. Laughing, I watch her wrestle with Cerberios for control of the frisbee. "Drop it!"

It takes Fay a few tries to get the toy to pass through Ripper's jaws, and he is rewarded with an extreme throw. It flies far; far enough to land in the Golden Sands Lake—a subterranean sinkhole with underwater webs of tunnels linking to the Hydson River, which pours straight out to the open sea.

She turns her head, a cringy frosted smile at me. "There are mermaids down there."

"You don't have to worry about them playing with him."

"Not scared they'll end up eating him?"

"I believe he's still too small right now. They're waiting." I wink.

Fay throws me a horrified look and begins fluttering down. After one second of regretting my words, I run after her and grab her ankle. "He's safe, bug," I assure her as she snuggles around my neck. "Now, focus on your pitcher." It takes some time for me to untangle my hands from her waist.

To say it was unnatural is a weak word, given the circumstances.

"Aye, captain." She flies back to where she was and hits the ground with the tip of her bat. "Ready when you are, big bear!"

I think I'm nodding, very much intoxicated by whatever she's made of...

She tramples on the spot, adjusts her grip smoothly, flexes her knees, her little wings burring with anticipation. Fay spits to one side like a renegade, firing up everything in me, my cock about to make her bat flush.

She then chuckles without a sound, biting her lip as she does, eyes yoyoing from my crotch to my eyes. "Tyke," she chirps with a playful scowl.

"Eyes on the ball, fairy," I say, pointing at the ball. She detected the pole tenting my pants—how could she not? I'm as hard as a monolith for her. Can't do much. It's systemic.

She keeps chuckling. My... "Eyes on the ball, I said!" I soft-toss the ball, and she's a winner! Her bat strikes, sending the ball flying in the sky down... to the Golden Sands Lake.

Her shoulders slump awkwardly, implying, by default, that she wasn't expecting that. Because I wasn't. And the last time she tried, she sent a direct hit to my nuts.

"Hey, you know what?" she shouts.

"No."

"Grass grows, birds fly, dogs chase frisbees. I beat balls up."

Yes... "Yes. Yes, you do."

Well, that was a short game because I'm already walking up to her.

"What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?" She starts turning on herself like she has something stuck on her backside. "Come on, Tyke... tell me."

"I wanna kiss you."

She tosses her bat like I didn't struggle searching my closet for thirty minutes trying to find it, and here she is, throwing it at my feet after one successful hit.

Taking her crop top off, she flashes me her speckled, perfect fucking pert breasts. "Then, catch them!"