Finding El Dorado Again

Finding El Dorado Again
By Ayame

Notes and disclaimers: I don’t own the characters. I’m using them for my own nefarious purposes. This story came out of my wondering about Miguel and Tulio. I love that couple, don’t get me wrong, but I wondered who Miguel might end up with if Tulio wanted to stay with Chel. I decided he’d go back to El Dorado…

Warnings: Slash! M/M There’s some Miguel/Tulio from the past and Miguel/Tannabok. If you don’t like big guys in your sex stories, your loss, but don't say I didn't warn ya. ;)

PS: I have some fan art of Miguel/Tannabok here: http://yaoi.y-gallery.net/gallery/ayame28/theroadtoeldora/


Part 1: The God returns

There were very few things Miguel would change about the jungle. He actually liked it. It was so unlike the arid and salty coasts of Spain. He liked the jungle’s explosion of plants and flowers; the wetness of the air. He loved the way the heat and the humidity enveloped him completely like an all-encompassing embrace. And somewhere, in the depths of these wet forests was El Dorado.

Miguel loved the jungle, but it was being lost that he hated. And the bugs. He would have gotten rid of the bugs if he really were a god. He would wave his hand the little biting and crawling things would be gone: poof! He thought, though, that he might keep the butterflies and some of the shiny beetles he’d seen; but that was all. The rest could go. He also thought that if he were a god, he’d get rid of the snakes. He’d nearly stepped on a few evil-looking ones as he tried to make his way back to El Dorado. He was even bitten once, but the snake must not have been poisonous; he was still alive.

When he, Chel and Tulio left El Dorado a year ago, he’d tried to remember distinctive landmarks. At the time, he told himself that he was just fixing the place in his memory so he could do just that: remember it. He never thought he’d go back after he’d joined Tulio in the boat. When the tunnel crashed around them and water filled his mouth and eyes, he thought that was the end of his time in El Dorado. He never thought he’d go back. He’d been so devoted to Tulio.

It was foolishness to believe that Tulio might want him back. Tulio had Chel and he was happy in her company—especially at night. Miguel heard them, and the way Tulio moaned and sighed reminded Miguel of his own times alone with Tulio, in the dark. Now Chel did the things that Miguel once did, and probably, in Tulio’s opinion, did them better.

Miguel knew he was just tagging along, hoping against hope that Chel would leave them alone again. He held out a pathetic dream that things would go back to being the way they had been for years and Tulio would seek him out for physical comfort. He’d known Tulio for so many years and they’d been lovers throughout.

Miguel remembered lying on the hard Catalan ground and laughing with Tulio, staring up at the stars. Tulio was honest with Miguel: what they had, Tulio said, was just something to pass the time. They were friends, certainly, but also lovers. But Miguel had always loved Tulio completely; even if Tulio could never love him back the way Miguel wished he could.

He knew he could have tried to go back to El Dorado the very day they’d left it. He could have saved himself the trouble of crossing through the thick jungle again, but he’d wanted to be with Tulio. Tulio was once the star he’d followed, hoping, always hoping.

It was fun being with the two of them. Miguel would never say otherwise. Chel taught him how to fish with a spear and what foods could be gleaned from the jungle and how to prepare them. She told them the stories of her people: talk of constellations, gods and treasures beyond imagination.

Miguel really did like her, even though he was jealous of her. Even if he wished that she would betray Tulio so that he would come running back into his arms. He felt bad for thinking that, but he wished it anyway.

They traveled north, looking for missions and Spanish outposts, since Tulio and Chel both wanted to go back to Spain. Tulio talked of marriage, even if Chel skirted the topic whenever it was raised.

Miguel had held onto his hope that Tulio would come back to him for an entire year. Until one day, he came up to Tulio, unnoticed. He watched Tulio watch Chel and the look in his eyes was beautiful. It was the look that Miguel had hoped for, but could never get. He wasn’t a woman and Tulio wanted a wife.

In the hot jungle, in the present, Miguel shook himself from his thoughts. He was sitting on the ground near a stream. Altivo walked over to him, whickered and nudged Miguel. Miguel frowned at the white horse. He wiped his hand over his face. He was growing stubble where he was usually clean-shaven. His moustache was ragged and long. It had been a week since he’d sharpened his knife and shaved. He was actually beginning to worry that he wasn’t going to find El Dorado again. He was worried that he’d remembered the landmarks incorrectly, or that his memory was failing him. He’d stopped shaving. He didn’t eat as much. Despair was working its way through him, starting in his mind and closing off his actions. It was actually becoming difficult to get up every morning.

He looked up and saw his face mirrored briefly in the horse’s dark eyes. He caught a glimpse of his blonde hair, bright in the noon sun, and then Altivo blinked and nudged him again.

“All right, all right,” Miguel said. He managed a smile for the animal and stood up. His backside hurt, though, from riding so much recently; and now, since he’d sat on the damp ground, it was wet, too. He chuckled suddenly, and climbed up onto the horse’s back. They’d been riding through the jungle for almost eight months to find the city again. “Finding El Dorado is a pain in the ass,” he said, laughing again.

They walked on, southward again. As they walked, Miguel kept up a monologue with the horse. It had become his habit to talk to Altivo, and in a way, he believed the horse sometimes understood him. “Do you think they’re in Spain now? I suppose they are. I hope Chel and Tulio are happy. I want to be happy, too. We’ve got to be close. Do you think we’re close, boy?”

Altivo whickered, as if he understood. Miguel let the horse pick his way across the increasingly rocky landscape. His heart lifted as he started seeing things he recognized: unusual rock formations, the peculiar sounds of water flowing downward, below the ground into the sunken caves that many people in the jungle named as entrances to the Underworld, or Xibalba. He saw the orchids that he was certain grew only near El Dorado and was confident they were close. He urged Altivo into a rapid trot and felt his heart beat faster and faster.

Just before the light began to fade, always a rapid diminishing in the jungle, Miguel and Altivo came to a misty waterhole. All around, the sound of water falling made a certain pattern of sound that Miguel recognized. He kicked Altivo in the sides, earning a baleful look from the horse, which surged forward despite the insult.

Altivo’s hooves clicked against the hard stones and splashed in the cool, shallow water. The heat was less intense here, as the mist surrounded them. A large rock could be seen in the distance. Miguel’s heart beat faster: The Really Big Rock, he thought. He jumped off Altivo’s back and ran to the stone. It was the marker he and Tulio had found so long ago.

He reached up to touch the images carved there. It showed two men, gods really, riding a horse-like animal. These were the gods he and Tulio had once impersonated. One of the gods looked uncannily like Tulio. He ran his fingers over the carving. The rock was rough and cold. Suddenly he missed Tulio terribly and wondered if coming back to El Dorado was the right thing. But he did love the city. He loved the people, the wonders, the tastes of the food. He had enjoyed the company of Chief Tannabok. He missed his knowing smile nearly as much as he missed Tulio.

So he began to look around. He found where the entrance behind the waterfall would have been and it was, of course, tightly sealed with rock and rubble. He hadn’t expected otherwise, but still, he believed there must be another way inside. There had to be. This belief had kept him going on his long journey south, away from Tulio, towards the golden city.

He spent the rest of the scant daylight hours looking for some sign of another entrance into the city. He pulled at rocks that seemed loose and watched for any sign of human life. He saw nothing. As darkness enveloped him, he made a small camp and forced himself to eat a little and sleep.

When the sun rose, he was back at it. He made a circuit around the waterhole, and then abandoned it, walking around the mountain that must hold El Dorado inside. Days passed and finally, he was back to the waterhole again. Despair took hold of him again and he stood behind the waterfall, pulling at rocks until his hands bled. He pounded on the rocks with his fists and called out until his voice was hoarse. He pounded harder on the rocks, leaving slippery red streaks over the lichen-covered stone. No one came. Altivo watched the goings on with sideways, frightened looks. He seemed afraid that Miguel had lost his mind.

Miguel had stopped eating and drinking. He sat in a puddle of water wondering if he’d imagined everything. Maybe it wasn’t real. Some people thought El Dorado was a legend. Searching for El Dorado was a quest for fools.

He was failing. The humidity and the heat settled like a heavy hand over his body and he passed out. Altivo nudged him and Miguel didn’t move.

* * *

Chief Tannabok was dining with his ex-wives and their families. He had nine former wives, one after the other. Each wife had parted amicably with him and so he still considered them part of his household. Each had a beautiful room in the palace of El Dorado and some had remarried, brought their new husbands and their children, and so Tannabok’s house had started to feel more and more like a home.

It felt more like a home to him because children were the only reason he’d married. He loved women, but just not physically. He, like some, preferred men. He didn’t need to marry for political reasons, since El Dorado wasn’t an empire like their neighbors the Maya and the Inca. He’d just hoped to have a family, but he wasn’t destined to be a father. After nine wives and no children, it was pretty obvious; especially after one of his ex-wives remarried and was pregnant within a month of the ceremony. Tannabok loved children and badly wanted his own, but things were the way they were. He was glad he had this unusual family group surrounding him. His ex-wive's children treated him like he was actually family. They called him "Uncle Chief." It pleased him and made life worth living.

Tannabok chatted over today's fine dinner with his first ex-wife, Pita. She always sat near him and they enjoyed each other's company. She'd never remarried. Instead, she had a court of "young men" who all shared her bed, sometimes all at once, as court rumor had it. Like Tannabok, she was large and had a cheerful disposition. They spoke about the plentiful mid-summer harvest of squash and early maize. They discussed dog-breeding and other inconsequential things. Some recent news from scouts traveling outside El Dorado was brought up by his much thinner, second wife, Uluaria, sitting next to Pita. “They said that Spaniards are in the city of Chichen to the north,” she said. Tannabok had already heard all this. Uluaria would have gotten the information as passed down through court gossip.

“The Maya city?” Pita asked.

“Yes, that would be Emperor Al-Chek’s territory,” Tannabok said. He’d visited the city long ago as a younger man. “It’s good we sealed off the entrance to our city. The Spaniards are dangerous people.”

“Not the two Spaniards we had before,” said Pita. “The cute ones,” she added, slyly, with a wink.

“Ah, our imposter gods. They were something else, weren't they?" In Tannabok's mind, they'd both been two beautiful, and highly exotic, men. He'd taken a liking to Miguel, especially.

The conversation around the dinner tables turned to other subjects. Small, hairless dogs begged for scraps of turkey at Tannabok's feet. He always indulged the ugly little creatures. He couldn't help himself. He was grinning stupidly at one of the dogs when he noticed some unexpected movement just outside the dining hall. A scout stood at attention, stiff with anticipation. Tannabok waved him forward.

The scout approached the chief and everyone closest to them leaned in to catch the news first-hand. “Chief,” the scout said, “We’ve found a foreign man and his horse outside the city.”

“A Spaniard then? They're the ones with the horses.” Pita commented, and some of the listeners let out murmurs of surprise.

“Yes,” the scout answered. “He succumbed to heat-stroke and we have brought him inside the palace. We were at a loss at what to do with him and want your instructions. He is in the hall. What should we do with him?”

Tannabok stood. He bowed to the other diners, excusing himself from dinner, and then said to the scout, “Show me this man. What did you do with the horse?”

“We housed the animal with the llamas. The horse was upset at being separated from his master, but we got him into the pen.”

Tannabok had only seen one horse before. “Was it a white horse?”

“Yes. With gray hair and tail.”

“Curious,” the chief said, and followed the man’s brisk walk. The entered the hall where the man was laying on a long couch, asleep and very pale.

It was the man’s hair that made Tannabok realize who it was. Miguel’s hair was golden-yellow and long. So was this man’s. He was thin and covered with dirt and blood. His breathing was shallow. Tannabok kneeled and looked closer at his face. It was, despite the grime and look of neglect, obviously Miguel. It was as if thinking of him at dinner had conjured him into the palace. He couldn’t believe it. Blood rushed from his face at the shock of it.

He stood up and thanked the scout. "I'll take care of him. I know this man." He beckoned to the household servants. “Carry him to my rooms. We will see that he is bathed and given water to drink,” Tannabok said.

“Yes, Chief,” the scout said.

Tannabok watched them lift Miguel carefully and he followed briskly. He watched as servants carefully laid the unconscious man in Tannabok’s own bed. They gently stripped him of his clothes and other servants carried them away to be washed and repaired. Tannabok couldn’t help watching the procedure. It had been a long-time idle fantasy of his to imagine Miguel as his lover. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the long, pale torso or his lean legs. Tannabok tried to keep his eyes from roving over Miguel’s private areas. It was wrong to stare at someone like this, when they were at their most vulnerable, but he couldn’t help it. The man was handsome in every possible way. His penis was long and heavy. Bright curls of yellow hair surrounded this organ and his testicles. Tannabok reflected, embarrassed and pleased at the same time, that Miguel was truly god-like.

Then Miguel was sponged clean by the servants. Tannabok wanted to help, but contented himself with watching. The blood and dirt was washed from his face. Water was dribbled between his cracked lips. In his sleep, his tongue darted out, licking the cool water away.

When he was clean, he was covered with a light summer blanket. Tannabok dismissed the servants and watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. He hoped they’d found him in time. Seeing him again was beyond his fondest dream. He never thought he’d see Miguel again, and here he was, sleeping in the chief’s own bed.

* * *

When Miguel woke he was someplace cool. He was lying on something soft and covered with what looked like a blue blanket. A shaft of moonlight came in through the open window and threw light against the far wall where there was an elaborately carved door. The designs were like the kind he’d recognized as Mayan or Incan. He dared to wonder if they might be El Doradoan. He blinked and tried to focus better. It must have been early morning or late evening: everything was muted and in that state where it was either growing lighter or darker. He could hear crickets.

Another sound drew his attention, a shifting and the sound of wood creaking, as if someone was getting up from a chair. He looked over to his left and saw a huge, rounded figure emerging from the shadows. Miguel’s mouth was paste-like and dry. It took him a moment to whisper, “Chief? Is that you? Am I really here? Is this El Dorado?”

It was the chief, Miguel could see, as he came closer to the bed. He smiled, a white smile against his dark skin. “This is El Dorado. You’re really here.” He reached for a pitcher and some water and handed it to him. Miguel drank gratefully. He licked his lips and watched the chief’s face. He had a look of relief and the corners of his mouth curled into a small smile. The chief settled on the edge of the bed, making the bed groan and creak in response to his weight.

“I’ve been watching you sleep all this night,” the chief said. “I’m glad to see you awake. Yesterday, you had a terrible fever. I was worried about you.”

Miguel was touched and surprised that Chief Tannabok had personally watched out for him. “You shouldn’t have…” Miguel started to say.

The chief interrupted him, “Shouldn’t have what? Worried? Watched you while you slept?”

“No! I mean--I'm not anyone special. Remember, I’m not really a god.”

Tannabok laughed so hard the bed shook. “I am not so simple. I knew you were never a god. I don’t believe in the gods.”

“Then why did you let us pretend?”

“It suited me to do so. It was an adventure and you both helped me strike at my greatest enemy.”

“The priest?”

“Yes, Tzekel-Kan. I used you all, a little.” He was quiet and Miguel tried to digest everything. He was here! El Dorado! Tannabok cleared his throat. “So where are Chel and Tulio?”

“In Spain,” he said. He didn’t want to talk about it and so asked for some more water.

The chief stood up to pour him another glass and Miguel watched his graceful movements and was so relieved, so beyond relieved to not only be in El Dorado, but be with the person he’d liked best in the city. “Can I stay?” Miguel blurted out.

The chief laughed again. “Stay here? In bed? Surely people will talk if you never leave my bed.”

“This is YOUR bed?”

“I wanted you to have the best care. I trusted only myself for that. Of course you can stay. I’ve always liked you very much, Miguel.”

“But I want to earn my keep—I need to be useful.”

The chief nodded and pretended to think about it, but Miguel was sure that the chief already knew what he was going to say. “Could you be the court musician? It’s been an awfully long time since the position was filled and your music, I remember, was quite good.

“Yes! I’d love that!” He felt like his heart was going to burst. He was staying! He was with his favorite person from the city, a man he liked and respected. And Tannabok liked him, too--even after Miguel had left El Dorado, Tannabok remembered him and cared for him.

It was really too much. For more months than he could even remember, he'd been traveling alone, well, with Altivo, in the jungle. He'd not had another person care about him in such a long time. Miguel turned away, trying to hide the tears that squeezed between his lashes.

The chief said nothing. He only patted Miguel's shoulder and whispered, "I'm glad you're here. Rest, today. Tomorrow we will get you ready for the court. Now, you are a lord of El Dorado. I'll be nearby if you need me, but at dawn, I have to attend to business."

Miguel nodded, listening to Tannabok's smooth, kind voice. He whispered, "Thank you," almost too softly. He wasn't sure if Tannabok had heard him. But Tannabok smoothed Miguel's hair from his face. Some of it had stuck to the tears running down his cheeks. It was a kind, beautiful gesture and as Tannabok leaned closer, he said, "You're welcome, Miguel. You're always welcome."

* * *

Tannabok left Miguel to sleep that morning and went out into the hallways of the palace. He found his head servant, Tezul, awake and laying out cloth of rich golds and bright blues in the empty room next to Tannabok's. This would be Miguel's room, now that he had recovered. Tezul had wanted to move Miguel to the empty rooms right away, but Tannabok had worried and fretted over him and wanted him close while he was healing. Miguel didn't know yet, but he'd been sleeping on and off for about three days. He'd had a fever and during his illness had cried out in his sleep. His speech had been vague and confused, but Tannabok heard Tulio's name. He knew that Tulio was in his thoughts, even when Miguel's thoughts were shrouded by sleep.

Tezul was a grumpy old man who had been with Tannabok for years, since the chief was a young man. He stomped around the room, muttering to himself. Then he confronted Tannabok; he wanted to complain. "This foreigner is too much trouble. You have made him a lord? Now we will have to turn out this old room, making it fit for a lord. What kind of lord can a foreigner be? What does he know of our ways?"

"Only a little, I'm afraid," Tannabok said. The room was dusty, actually. It hadn't been used for years. Not since the chief that proceeded him lived in here. "He will be a Lord of Music, and for that, I know he has a vast knowledge."

Tezul snorted and when he wasn't looking, Tannabok smiled at him. Tezul's grumpiness was actually endearing, if one took the time to know the man. He had a kind heart under all of the bluster. Tezul said, "I suppose you'll expect me to get him ready tomorrow."

"That would be agreeable," Tannabok said. "I thank you for taking charge of this room. I know it will be fit for a god by the time you're though with it."

Tezul raised one eyebrow. "He does look a little like a god, doesn't he."

"That he does. But we know this one is a mortal, albeit one that is special."

"Indeed," Tezul said. Then he turned away, leaving Tannabok to let himself out of the room. Outside, he saw Pita.

Pita was surrounded by an entourage of her young men. She smiled at Tannabok and dismissed them, crossing the hallway with her swaying, almost swaggering walk. "So, the young Spaniard is staying? Court Musician? It's been awhile since anyone held that position."

Tannabok frowned. "That's true. But I've never been eager to fill the spot."

"I know," she said. "Tzekel-Kan would have done better to stay here, than to move onto the temple. You couldn’t possibly know. Are you going to ask for more priests now that he's gone? It's been over a year, Tanni."

"I have no use for priests," he said. "The people have not asked for more. They seem content with consulting the astronomer who lives up there now. I am content with that as well."

Pita frowned, but then looked mischievous. "For someone who doesn't believe in the gods, it's clear that you worship at least one," she said.

Tannabok felt his face heat up, but did not fall for the bait. "The god of food, of course," he said, rubbing his round belly. Pita stared at him for a moment, and then began to laugh.

"I could never trick you into admitting anything you didn't want to admit. But I know you care for him. The worry you showed over this man, the generosity of offering your own bed and your own time. You did not need to do these things on your own. Tezul himself could have looked after the Spaniard."

"Tezul could kill a flower by looking at it the wrong way. I do care for Miguel, but don't look too far into it. Not yet, at any rate, Pita."

"Well enough. I look forward to the young god's music. He is a pretty one." She planted a kiss on Tannabok's cheek and went back down the hall to rejoin her young men.

Later, in the evening, the renovation of the room was finally complete. It was decorated in golds and blues, the colors of Miguel's new office as the Lord of Music. The room was empty. Even Tezul had finally slunk off to rest. The sun was setting and long shadows moved through the room. Sitting there, Tannabok realized how lonely he'd been for a long time. It wasn't that he didn’t' have people to talk to; he wasn't lonely in that regard. He was physically starved for love. He hadn't had a lover he enjoyed for years. His wives were lovers only by necessity and he hadn't taken anyone to his bed now for over five years. His heart felt cold and small and scared. He was creating, over and over, as Miguel slept and healed, a fantasy life that could not possibly be sustained. He wished for Miguel to fall in love with him. He had only been in love once, and that ended very badly. He believed he could understand how Miguel felt about Tulio.

And he didn't want to replace Tulio. He never could. Tulio complimented Miguel. But Tannabok wanted to compliment him too. He wanted to fit into Miguel's life somewhere.

And yet, it was a dream that depended on too many ifs. If--Miguel would stay in El Dorado as he was supposed to in the first place. If--Miguel might find an old, fat man attractive. If--Tannabok could find the way to his heart.

Tannabok sighed and looked up at the rising moon. He shook his thoughts away and went to check on Miguel.

* * *

The next morning, Miguel woke and felt stronger than ever. He rubbed his eyes and looked around the sunny room. The chief was not there, but Miguel knew he'd been there in the night. He'd sat in a large, heavy chair with his chin sunk on his chest. He snored softly while he slept in that uncomfortable position.

There was a sharp rap on the door and before Miguel could say anything, a wiry older man entered the room. He was dressed as most male El Doradoans dressed. He had a kilt and a mantle around his neck. The colors of his clothes were muted and Miguel guessed he was a servant.

The man crossed the room quickly and clapped his hands near Miguel's head, as if Miguel wasn't already awake. "Stand up, foreigner. I am Tezul, the chief's head servant. You are to be moved to your new rooms, cleaned, dressed and taught some basic manners of the court. Your instruments will be ready later today or tomorrow. You will not be expected to start playing until your hands have fully healed, but you can inspect them when they're ready." The man stared at Miguel with his coal-black eyes. Miguel imagined that they were burning.

"Tezul?"

"Yes?"

"Give me a hand?"

The man rolled his eyes, but helped Miguel sit up. After being in bed for awhile, he felt stiff and worn. Miguel knew he was naked under the covers and wrapped the blanket around himself as he stood up. Tezul stood nearby, ready to catch him if he stumbled. Miguel was grateful.

Then Tezul produced a robe that had been draped over a nearby chair. "Put this on." He turned his back on Miguel and waited impatiently. Miguel put on the blue robe and then followed Tezul out of the room. They walked a very short way to another door on the same side of the hall. Tezul opened it and indicated that Miguel should go in.

The room was simply amazing. It was huge, for one thing. For another, it was beautiful. All shades of blue and gold made the room colorful and bright. Actual gold statues stood on azure tables. It was more than he expected.

"Enough looking!" Tezul snapped. "Get into the bath. Clean up. You smell terrible."

Miguel scowled at Tezul and stuck his tongue out, but only when he was sure Tezul couldn't see. In the bathroom, there was an actual toilet that didn't smell terrible. Miguel wondered how that was accomplished. But when he saw the running water in the sink and tub, he forgot about everything else. The water was even hot. Miguel sank into the bath and nearly fell asleep. He woke to Tezul tugging at his hair, washing it with some fruity-smelling soap and pouring buckets of water over his head. Then Tezul proceeded to trim his hair and brush it.

"You will have to cut that hair on your face yourself. We found your bags and I know you have a knife in there and a reflector."

"A reflector? Oh yes, my mirror," Miguel said. "Can you bring it here?"

Tezul looked very pressed upon, but he left the room and brought the bag into the bathroom shortly. He left again, letting Miguel trim his mustache and beard. Not long after Miguel finished, Tezul called from the main room and told him to get out. There were towels hung on the walls and Miguel grabbed one, feeling suddenly cold after the hot bath.

Miguel was still drying his hair and trying to keep another towel around his waist at the same time as he exited the bathroom. It was a shock to see that he and Tezul were no longer alone. The room was filled with servants: both men and women. Before he could flee back into the bath, two women grabbed his arms and made him step onto a platform. "What's going on?" Miguel asked.

He heard a familiar voice behind him. "It's time for new clothes," the voice said. It wasn't Tezul's voice. Miguel turned to look over his shoulder and saw the chief sitting across the room, smoking and clearly admiring his bare ass. Miguel blushed, feeling his face heat up and turned away.

The chief laughed and got up to walk around Miguel until he was standing just in front of him. Miguel was still stark naked. Servants scurried around him, measuring and holding out swatches of color to his skin. The chief frankly and obviously looked Miguel up and down. Miguel felt himself blush even more. This seemed to amuse the chief.

"I've never seen a man that could turn that color," Tannabok said, smiling.

"That's because I'm embarrassed!" Miguel hissed. He tried to snatch some cloth from one of the women, but she snatched it back and giggled at him.

The chief raised one eyebrow and took the cigar from his mouth. "But Miguel, you have nothing to be embarrassed about." He put the cigar back between his teeth and grinned, no doubt at Miguel's expression: his mouth was slack, his eyes wide open and his face was still very, very crimson.

Tannabok walked back around Miguel and said to everyone, "You're all doing very well. Please try to have him ready by this evening. You will dine with me, tonight, Miguel," the chief said.

Miguel heard the door close and he tried to relax. He hadn't been nervous around Tezul while he was naked, but being in a roomful of people and being naked was different. It was somehow mortifying, too, that Tannabok saw his entire body…no, that wasn't it. It was the way Tannabok had looked at him. It was an alien look. Frank, honest appraisals of the nude body were for painters and fancy art. The only other place he’d seen anything like it was at taverns and whore houses. But at those places, the appraisals were less…wholesome. Nevertheless, it wasn't for the everyday, in Miguel's experience. Even Tulio had never looked at him like that. Tulio tried to pretend he was a woman. Miguel had never fucked Tulio. It was always the other way around, and often in the blackest dark.

As embarrassed as he'd been, it was actually nice to have someone look at him like that. He caught some of the women staring in the same way and even Tezul often nodded his approval. Miguel found himself blushing for most of the day, hearing the women's giggles and laughter.

It was a long day.

When the sun began to sink and the sky started throwing golden sun through the open windows, Miguel's clothes were finally finished. Tezul had spent hours drilling him on the manners and customs of El Dorado. He'd only eaten a short lunch with Tezul frowning at him the entire time across the table. Now, he was starving and looking forward to dining with the chief.

Tezul escorted him to the chief's room, rapped on the door and when it opened, stepped back. "I will see you tomorrow, Lord Miguel. We will look at the instruments. Good night." Miguel was surprised, and then turned to see that Chief Tannabok had opened the door himself. The chief was around the same height as Miguel and was smiling at him.

"Come in," he said. "Your new clothes suit you."

Miguel was wearing a long gold and dark blue kilt. It was subtly embroidered with images of harps and flutes. It also felt cool against his skin. His chest was bare except for the gold mantle that rested on his shoulders. He wore gold earrings and they felt heavy and strange. Despite himself, he blushed at Tannabok's compliments.

He remembered the room and so it was like coming home again. The chief clapped him on the shoulder and putting his large hand on the small of his back, ushered him over to the table. The dining table was full of exotic food. Well, it was still exotic to Miguel. He sat after the chief did in the way Tezul had taught him. "Chief..." he started.

Tannabok cut him off. "Call me Tanni when we're alone. Please."

Miguel felt another blush rising, and reached for a glass of something to cover his embarrassment. It turned out to be wine, sweet and cold. Tannabok smiled at him all the while and gently peeled some kind of orange-skinned fruit. "Tanni, then."

Tannabok beamed. "I like that. Thank you."

"No! I wanted to--I uh, wanted to thank you. You've given me so much. I don't have any way to repay you."

Tanni waved that thought away. "Nonsense. Your company is enough to repay me tenfold."

Miguel ducked his head and blushed again. He wondered if Tanni was flirting with him, then thought that that was ridiculous. Tezul had told him that Tannabok had been married nine times. "So," Miguel said, playing with his food, "How come this job was open? You didn't just make it up for me, did you?"

Tannabok laughed gently. "No, of course not. Since you are not a god anymore, how can I treat you differently than anyone else?" Miguel stared at him for a moment and Tannabok continued, "It's been open for quite some time now. It used to belong to Tzekel-Kan."

"The crazy priest?"

Tannabok drank some wine and leaned over to pour more for Miguel. Their hands touched for a moment and Miguel shivered a pleasant shiver. "Tzekel-Kan was not always so crazy. In fact, once we were very close." He caught Miguel's eyes. "Once, we loved one another."

Miguel dropped his spoon because he was so shocked. It was a couple of things: Tannabok loved another man once and Tannabok had loved his own greatest enemy.

“No way,” Miguel said, finally, after retrieving his spoon from the floor and wiping it off on a cloth napkin.

“We were very young then. It was before I was chief that we were lovers. We grew apart after I was voted chief. The lords of the house and other lords in the city vote on the next chief and then we serve the term for life. Tezul told you about that, did he not?”

“No,” said Miguel. Tezul had spent the entire time on dinner etiquette and how to speak like a lord.

“Well, they vote. I was chosen. I appointed Tzekel-Kan to the position of high priest. He had had the job you have now. I thought it would make him happy. He was jealous of me, so I thought that being high priest would make him feel more equal to me again. But then, I couldn’t understand it. It was more complicated than mere jealousy. We were still lovers, but we spent less time together.” The chief paused to drink some more wine. “The other thing that drove us apart was entirely my fault. I started getting fat, though I was hardly as large as I am now. Finally Tzekel-Kan told me I was repulsive. He told me he hated me and that I was a weak leader—well, all kinds of things, he said to me. Our love had turned to hate.” His black eyes focused on Miguel, “Is that what happened with you and Tulio?”

“No, not at all…” Miguel started and then realized what Tannabok had figured out. “How--?”

Tannabok smiled gently. His round face lit up beautifully with his smile. He said, “It was obvious to anyone who looked. You loved him.”

Miguel felt his insides churn. He still had feelings for Tulio and he’d never spoken of them with anyone other than Tulio before.

“It’s not the sort of thing we talk about in Spain,” Miguel said softly. “It’s not considered right for a man to love another man. Tulio didn’t love me anyway,” he said. He was surprised at how bitter he sounded. He tried to sound less angry. “He will always be my friend, but he could never love me back.”

Miguel stared at his plate and tried to eat some of the food on it. He glanced to the side and noticed that somehow, Tanni had eaten all of his food already. Miguel hadn’t even noticed it disappear.

Miguel said, “We don’t talk much about it because in Spain, if someone accuses you of sodomy—“

“I don’t know that word.”

“Sex with another man,” Miguel said. “If you’re accused, you can be beaten or killed. Some people get turned over to the Inquisition and then it’s worse, or so I’ve heard. That’s the kind of place Spain is.”

“What is the Inquisition?”

“They’re priests and they judge people, too.”

“I can’t believe this. Is this why Tulio could never love you?”

“No. He’s always wanted a wife. He’s just horny and I was always there,” Miguel said, and smiled finally. Tanni smiled back in a conspiratorial way and Miguel felt better. He actually ate some more food.

“So, it’s OK in El Dorado to love another man?”

Tanni smiled. “It’s quite normal.”

“Why did you get married so many times?”

“I wanted to be a father. That’s all. My tastes have always run to men, instead of women,” he caught Miguel’s eyes, and again, Miguel wondered if Tanni was flirting with him. He hoped so, but he was afraid to push things. He didn’t want to ruin things. He felt fragile, breakable. He wasn’t sure if he was misinterpreting everything. He loved El Dorado, but he was a foreigner, as Tezul made blatantly clear today.

Miguel realized that he still enjoyed Tanni’s company. If anything, he felt more comfortable around the chief now that he wasn’t pretending to be a god anymore.

They drank and talked for a long time. Finally, Miguel realized that he was exhausted. Tanni could tell, too, and escorted him on the short walk back to his room. As Miguel opened the door, he realized Tanni was standing close. He could have kissed him. But he was too nervous. Besides, the chief’s flirting might mean nothing at all. Some men were flirts.

“Goodnight Tanni,” he said. It didn’t seem like enough, but it was all he could say.

Tanni smiled and headed back to his room. Miguel closed his door and leaned against it. He slid down against the wall until he was sitting on the cool floor. He stared out into the dark of the room, not really seeing anything. He realized he didn’t know what to think anymore.

He tried to catalogue how Tanni had treated him. When he first came to El Dorado with Tulio, Tanni let them pretend to be gods. But the whole time he knew better. Why did he do that? Tanni said it had suited him to let them pretend. It helped him get back at Tzekel-Kan. Tanni must have known that putting “gods” out in the city would have drawn Tzekel-Kan into some kind of action that would lead to trouble for the priest. If the people had discovered that Tzekel-Kan was wrong about the gods, he would have been overthrown. Things turned out differently, but the result was the same: Tzekel-Kan was gone.

Miguel wondered if he should feel used. But he didn’t. Tanni had always wanted him to stay in El Dorado. He would have made a place for him the first time, if he hadn’t left. Miguel was sure of that.

Then Miguel remembered how Tanni had watched over him while he was sick. Tezul said he’d slept for three days. All three days, Tanni had been there, concerned and worried. Then Tanni flirted with him today and invited him to dinner, alone. To Miguel, it all added up that he cared and wanted to know him better, but he wanted a stronger signal, one that indicated that he also wanted Miguel in his bed.

And he still had feelings for Tulio. He knew that was foolish, but there they were. And the wine had left him feeling horny, in the way that excessive wine always did.

He tried to imagine what it would be like to make love to Tanni. Would Tanni let him penetrate him? He thought he would. He hadn’t done that in years. Tulio hadn’t been his first lover, although he was only person Miguel could say he loved. He’d been with all kinds of men, all shapes and sizes. Basically, Miguel had been a whore once, before he’d met Tulio and learned the art of the con.

But he’d never been with anyone so large before and he wondered how it would feel. He didn’t find Tanni repulsive, like Tzekel-Kan had. He actually thought that Tanni was rather attractive.

So he tried to imagine it. He reached down and undid the clasp that kept his kilt closed. He handled himself until he was hard and imagined kissing Tanni’s thick, soft lips and laying on top of the huge man. He was more than huge, he was a mountain. He wondered how he felt to touch. Every time he'd brushed against Tanni, his skin was dry and warm. Miguel tried to imagine making love, but his tired, tipsy mind couldn't figure the mechanics of it, unless he took Tanni from behind. That was easy to imagine...

He stroked himself slowly, imagining a long hot night and holding tight to that huge body. But as good as it was to imagine, it was better to remember. His mind drifted back to thinking of Tulio and his long, lean legs. He thought of the one time they'd done it under a full moon. He could see Tulio's face clearly as he pushed inside. Tulio liked to move his hips a certain way, a funny little jerk to the left and to the right, as if he were trying to settle into place. They'd held tight to one another, sometimes their chests pressing against each other, other times Tulio seemed both far away and yet so intimately close. Tulio reached down, that time, to touch his face. Miguel called out Tulio’s name as he stroked himself faster and faster, he couldn’t help it. He climaxed loudly, his back against the door. Then he sat there, still, spent and a little sticky.

A knock on the door suddenly startled him. He quickly stood up and grabbed a robe that was laid out on his bed. He opened the door to find Tanni there. Tanni looked uncomfortable for a moment and Miguel wondered if he’d heard him. But then Tanni smiled and said, “I’m sorry, I just realized I forgot to tell you that tomorrow afternoon, after you are finished looking at the court’s instruments that I’d like to take you on a tour of the city. You never saw all of it last time. And your horse is missing you, we think.”

Miguel smiled. “I’d like that.”

The chief nodded. “All right then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Tanni.”

* * *

The next morning, while Miguel was busy with Tezul in the music room, Tanni went to visit Pita. She lived in western wing of the palace and grew small orchids and other flowers in her room. She had no children and had never remarried. She was, as always, surrounded by her young men. The men were busy doing various things in the room. Some tended plants, others played music and there were even two playing Stones in a corner of the room. The bed that could be glimpsed from the main room was certainly wide enough to entertain several adults, even considering that Pita was a large woman.

She smiled at Tannabok, waving him in. One of her men brought the chair she kept for him out of the other room. Pita was a large woman, but not nearly as large as he was. He preferred a sturdy chair and was always grateful that she thought of him.

Tannabok sat and accepted the tea offered by one of the men. Each was kind of anonymous in that they looked the same. They were all uniformly handsome and muscular. They all seemed kind-hearted, too. Pita didn't keep anyone long if they were mean or cruel in any way.

"So," she said. "How are you today? How is our foreign lord?"

"I am well and he seems well."

"So, out with it, what's troubling you?"

Tannabok made a show of thinking about what he would say. Finally, he smiled and leered at Pita, "Would you sleep with me?"

Pita laughed. "Now?"

He laughed, too and leaned back. He pressed his hands to the curve of his stomach and said, "I mean, the way I am now. It's been years since we were married. Nearly twenty. I was a lot slimmer then."

"Relatively speaking," Pita answered. "You want to know if I would sleep with you now."

"As a hypothetical question."

She also made a show of thinking about her answer. Of all his wives, they were married the longest: five years. She’d picked up some of his habits. Finally, she smiled and said, "Yes, because you're a man and I simply love a good set of equipment, which you have. But you're thinking about the Spaniard."

Tannabok finished his tea and waved to a servant for more. "Yes, of course I am."

"He's very pretty. I snuck in to look at him yesterday. He didn't know who I was, of course. Green eyes, yellow hair. Very exotic. Does he prefer men or women?"

"Men," Tannabok said. "And he’s not one who likes both, I think."

Pita frowned, "Isn't it a little silly to be worrying whether or not he will fuck you? Men are horny. Make a pass. He'll accept."

Tannabok knew that wasn't true, at least not completely true. He'd stopped taking people to bed with him because they were obviously put off by his size. Men went to his bed when he asked not because they thought he was attractive, but because he was the chief. He knew that was all. He saw it in their eyes. "It's not like that. When I first met him, when he pretended to be a god, I wanted him then. Everything about him, I wanted. Now that he's here, I feel like I've been starving all this time, waiting for him. I've fantasized about him so many times--not just sex, but also other things."

"You're a fool, Tanni. Love isn't real. It's just some joke of the gods."

"I don't believe in the gods," Tannabok said.

She wagged a finger at him, "Whether you believe or not, they will still have their jokes and still play them on mortals. That other man was his lover, right?"

"Tulio? Yes."

"You're not really his type then, do you think?"

Tannabok felt his heart sink, even though Pita's words echoed many of his own thoughts. "You're right." He stood up and bowed slightly to Pita. "Thank you for your time. I'm giving Miguel a tour of the city."

"Try to enjoy yourself," she said.

"I will," Tannabok replied. He closed the door behind him and walked down the hall. His belly preceded him everywhere he went. He put his hand over it, feeling the round curve of his stomach. He was huge. But he'd never hated himself, not like some fat people he'd known. He always knew every year that he was overindulging, getting bigger as time passed. Each year brought a larger wardrobe. This year had been no exception. But he'd never tried to stop it. He loved food. He loved other things, too, but food was always there, always available. He tried to enjoy everything he ate, to savor it and appreciate it. It was one of the many things he loved about life. And being fat hadn't stopped him from doing anything other than sitting in small chairs.

He went to his room and lit a cigar. He sat down at a small table, smoking, waiting for time to pass. He heard a rap on the door after he'd just finished the cigar. He stood up and opened the door to find Miguel smiling at him. He loved that smile and the way his eyes smiled with his mouth. He longed to touch the curve of his lips and the hair on his face. That was exotic, too.

"We're going out, right? I'm so excited!" Miguel said. He was taut with barely controlled energy and it brought out a smile in Tannabok.

"We are."

"Let's go then!" Miguel reached for Tannabok's hand and pulled him into the hallway. Tanni was letting Miguel pull him. If he'd wanted to stay put, Miguel would never have moved him. After Tanni was walking briskly alongside Miguel, he'd let go of his hand. It was a disappointment. His hand was hard and cool in his own. He felt a little emptier.

They left the palace and walked through the gardens. Huge birds, taller than men, begged for crumbs. "I remember these!" Miguel cried and asked to share some of the bread people were feeding them. They crowded all around Miguel, carefully picking up crumbs and seeds. Miguel was like a child in his excitement. He looked to see if Tanni was watching him and waved happily.

After feeding the birds, they took the winding road down into the city. People bowed when they saw Tannabok. Usually, they just nodded, acknowledging him as the city's ruler, but this time, since he was with Miguel, they believed something special was happening. Miguel was in his court clothes, so it was obvious that he was now the Lord of Music, the Court Musician. Of course, they also stared at Miguel because he was so different. His skin was so pale, his hair and eyes so unusual. He smiled at everyone, beaming and showing his white teeth.

They made their way down to the mercantile district, which Miguel also remembered. There was a group of men playing a lively song and Miguel grabbed his arm, dragging him over to the music.

For a moment, the music lost its momentum as the musicians looked up at the unusual sight. Tannabok did go around the city often, but not too often and of course, it was Miguel they were really surprised at. But the music picked up again where it had stopped and the musicians nodded to Miguel, recognizing his new office.

Miguel leaned over to whisper to Tanni, saying, “I wish my hands were better. I tried playing today, and they started bleeding again.”

“It’s only been a few days,” Tanni replied. “Do you like the music.”

“Oh yes!” His eyes turned back to watching the musicians. He seemed lost someplace, in some sort of parallel world where just he and the music existed. That’s how Tannabok read it.

The first song ended and another picked up. This one was lively, too and Miguel’s body reacted to it. Without warning he spun around and grabbed both of Tannabok’s hands. “Can men dance with other men here?” His voice was hopeful and full of wonder. It was like a kid who hoped he could have more than one piece of cake on his birthday.

“Of course, but I’m not much of a dancer,” Tannabok hedged.

“Tanni, don’t worry. Just follow my lead.” He moved Tannabok’s large arms around so that one hand was in Miguel’s and the other rested on Miguel’s waist. Because he was so large, his stomach pressed against Miguel’s. Tannabok felt awkward and exposed.

But Miguel’s eyes were bright and he was grinning. He stepped away from him and Tannabok followed, mimicking the move. He stepped to the side, and again, Tannabok copied him in reverse. It turned out that the dance was easy and soon he was moving without thinking about his feet.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about the closeness. Their faces were inches away from one another. Tannabok’s hand settled on the slight curve of Miguel’s slim waist. Miguel was touching the chief where he would have had a waist if he wasn’t so large. It meant that his hand rested on the side of his belly. And always, their bodies were so close to one another. Sometimes they pressed together and once, Miguel caught Tanni’s eyes when that happened and they looked at each other too long.

It was too long because nothing happened. Miguel’s eyes darted away again and Tannabok felt his face flush with embarrassment. He was glad that he couldn’t turn red, like Miguel.

The music ended and Miguel let go of him, bowing and smiling. “Thank you for the dance. You’re a good dancer.”

Tannabok laughed, “For an old, fat man, you mean.”

Miguel’s expression was more serious for a moment. “No, you’re just a good dancer.” He smiled. “Where to next?”

“Let’s go see the artists.”

They walked much of the afternoon. Tannabok had shown him potters, smiths who worked metals from copper to gold, painters and more musicians. One part of the day was especially interesting when they came across a school group of merchant and artisan’s children. They asked Miguel to describe the world across the ocean.

Miguel was a natural storyteller, brimming with exuberance. He told them of castles and cathedrals that rivaled the temple in height. He described dry lands with salty winds where wheat and grapes in the fields. He told them about windmills, using the power of the wind to do work for men. And he told them about the ships and the endless distance of the ocean.

The children were rapt in their attention. No one fidgeted, but they did ask a lot of questions. Most of them wanted to know if everyone looked like Miguel. Were they all pale and blonde? Did they all have green eyes. Miguel said that most people were pale or just a little darker than he was. He said that just over a small stretch of sea, called a straight, were people with dark skin and hair. They were Moors and had a different religion from the rest of Spain. There were the Roma, too, who traveled throughout the land telling fortunes and bringing beautiful music. The children wanted to hear about fantastic animals, too, but were disappointed that the only unusual animal that Miguel could describe was a horse.

Talking about horses made Miguel turn to catch Tannabok’s eyes. Tanni nodded and said to the teachers and children, “We have to go now. Another day, and you can speak to Lord Miguel.”

The children were disappointed, but mollified that they would get to talk to him again. Miguel walked over to where he was sitting and said, “Where is Altivo?”

“In the orchards, on the hills, where the llamas graze.”

“Oh,” Miguel answered. “I’ll be glad to see him again.”

They made the long walk through the streets. As they headed towards the orchards, they walked through the poorer section of El Dorado. Tannabok explained to Miguel that the poorest citizens lived here. These were people who were unskilled or unable to work for some reason. Miguel looked around and said, “This is the poorest section of El Dorado?”

Embarrassed, Tannabok said yes.

“This is not poor, not by my standards. When I was a boy, I was poor. My mother wasn’t married so that makes me a bastard.”

“I don’t know that word.”

“It’s just a bad thing to be. People look down on kids born outside of wedlock. That’s just how it is. My mother wasn’t a great person, but she did love me. She tried to keep food on our table. She sold her body to do that.” Miguel sounded like this was something that had once bothered him very much, but that now he just accepted it.

“I don’t understand again, Miguel. I’m very sorry.” Tannabok felt foolish.

Miguel stopped walking and put his hand against the yellow brick of one of the poorer houses.

“She was paid for sex,” he said. “You don’t have that here?”

Tannabok was surprised. “No, not at all. There’s no reason. Although, sometimes sex is traded for things or favors.”

“It’s like that,” Miguel said. “Sometimes we didn’t have food or even a place to sleep. And my mom died young. I was thirteen. I didn’t know what to do. I begged for money every day and at night, I started letting men sleep with me.”

Tannabok heard his own breath catch. “Miguel, you were just a child. That’s not right.”

“Old enough to fuck. Some men like ‘em young,” he said and this time he sounded bitter. “Anyway, it kept me fed. When I was seventeen, I met Tulio.” He started walking again. Tannabok told him to take a left and they started climbing the first foothill to the orchards.

Miguel continued, “Tulio had been raised in a well-to-do home. But then his mother died and his father remarried. Tulio had nothing then.”

“The new wife got everything?”

“Yes, and so did her children. It happens that way sometimes. Tulio went into the seminary to become a priest, but he was caught trying to steal from the church.”

“Sounds like Tulio,” Tannabok said, grinning.

“It does,” Miguel smiled. “We met not long after that and started making money by conning people and gambling. Tulio was good at numbers and planning. We became lovers after a few years. I really did love him, but like I said before, he couldn’t really love me. I told you how Spain is very repressive, how it’s wrong to love other men. Our religion says it’s wrong, too, and Tulio had spent a long time learning about that religion. To be honest, I’ve never read the Bible, our holy book. I can’t read very well, anyway. At church, when I did go, I never understood the service because it was in a different language, Latin.”

“Your world is so strange. What you described for the children was beautiful, but what you tell me is very ugly,” Tannabok said.

“Yeah, but everyplace is like that, don’t you think. Everyplace except here, in El Dorado.”

“We’ve worked hard to make it this way. We used to be Mayan, and at war with all the other Mayan states. Hundreds of years ago we left that and settled in the basin of the mountain. We’ve protected and hidden our city in various ways because we’ve never wanted to go back to being what we once were.”

Miguel smiled at him. They were in the orchards and in the distance a small herd of llamas were grazing happily in the late afternoon sun. Altivo was in that herd and when he heard them approach, his ears pricked forward. Then the horse galloped to Miguel and nuzzled him.

“It’s good to see you, too, old boy,” Miguel laughed. “How have you been?”

The horse whickered and pranced in place.

“Do you think he likes it here?” Miguel asked Tannabok.

“It seems so. Go ahead and spend some time. There’s no hurry.” He sat down under a cashew tree and watched Miguel hitch up his kilts and climb onto the horse’s back. Pulling the kilt up revealed even more of his long, beautiful legs. Tannabok admired them and watched as he took off over through the orchard, weaving through the trees. Miguel’s hair blew away from his face and he was smiling. Every time he came close, he waved at Tannabok.

It must have felt so free to move so fast, to be joined with such a powerful animal so closely. Tannabok envied Miguel as much as he admired him just then.

As the light began to fade, Miguel dismounted and walked over to Tannabok. He sat down next to him, sitting close enough that they were almost touching.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

“For the tour of the city?”

“For everything,” Miguel said. “I’ve dreamed of being back here for so long. And I can’t believe how big El Dorado is! I thought I’d seen everything last time.”

“It is big, and beautiful,” Tannabok said. He looked out over the city, and the golden light from orange setting sun. The water that ran through the canal glittered white and bright, like millions of diamonds.

“Yeah,” Miguel said, but he wasn’t looking over the rooftops anymore. He was looking at Tannabok, studying his face.

Tannabok felt nervousness curl up inside his stomach and instead of doing what he wanted, which was to kiss Miguel, said, “We should go back before it’s too dark.”

“Yeah, OK.”

Slowly, they made their way back to the palace. Miguel surprised him as they parted: he hugged Tannabok and then as he backed off, his face was red.

Tannabok stared at him for a moment as Miguel opened the door of his room and slipped quietly inside. Tanni wished he’d done more, said more.

“Next time,” he promised himself. Next time they were alone, he would say something, try something, let Miguel know his feelings. He would have given anything to dance with Miguel again, and if he could do more—well that was even better.

* * *

The days stretched out. Miguel found himself spending most of his time practicing. He was eating dinner now with the court, and he sat at a table far away from Tannabok. In fact, he’d hardly gotten a chance to talk to him since they’d seen the city together.

He knew that some unusual events had happened recently. A group of refugees from Chichen had sought asylum at El Dorado. They’d been found, ill and injured outside the closed waterfall tunnel and had been waiting there for two days until scouts had found them. Itzan, a woman near his age and one of Tanni’s ex-wives, filled him in. It seemed that Spaniards had taken over Chichen and Cortez himself had lead the initial attack. Now, a Bishop was in charge of the city. People were being forcibly converted.

Itzan said that all ten of the refugees were given good places to stay until they recovered and then they could decide whether they wanted to stay or not.

Despite that news which shamed and angered Miguel—it was his own people after all who were doing this—Miguel found most of his time pleasant. He liked working with the musicians who had volunteered their time to work with him. Tezul had managed to create or obtain a mandolin based off of Miguel’s description. His hands still hurt from cutting them against the rocks so long ago, but they’d stopped bleeding when he plucked and fingered the mandolin.

Finally, Miguel was ready to play for the rest of the court. He’d been practicing and practicing for days now. He was going to play an old song that had distinct subversive overtones—at least they were subversive in Spain.

He found that he was nervous as he faced his audience. It was dinner time and he planned to play like a troubadour, moving through the room as he sang and played. He looked over the many faces and eyes until he caught Tanni’s. Tannabok had a small, catlike smile on his face and had folded his hands in front of him. “Please, Lord Miguel,” he said. “Begin.”

So he did. The song was a simple one, based on an old Greek myth. It told of Apollo and Hyacinth and of Hyacinth’s tragic death. The story had always intrigued Miguel, as it was one of the few that even hinted at male/male love. The Greeks must have been a very different people.

As he sang and moved through the room, he constantly sought out Tanni’s eyes. Sometimes he was able to catch them and they looked at each other only briefly. He wanted to illicit more of a response, but was unable to do so, even when he moved very close to Tanni and sang Apollo’s lament.

After he was finished, the applause rose and Miguel felt proud and happy. He’d always loved music and enjoyed performing. Some of his and Tulio’s best cons had been elaborate performances.

He went to pack up his mandolin as the lords and ladies of the court left. Some stopped by to thank Miguel for his music. Pita came by and said, “We haven’t had such a wonderful night in quite some time. Thank you for the new music.” She planted a kiss on his cheek. Miguel turned red promptly and Pita chuckled as she walked away.

Finally, it was just Tanni and himself in the room. “May I walk you back to your rooms?”

“Sure. I’d like that,” Miguel said.

They walked quietly for awhile and then Miguel said, “It’s getting cold.”

“It’s unseasonal, but yes, it is. Probably will rain soon,” Tannabok said. Then he said, “It can get very cold when it rains. It’s a three dog night, then.”

“I don’t understand,” said Miguel.

Tannabok looked nervous, but he said, “Those little hairless dogs? You’ve seen them. They’re used to warm the bed on cold nights. A three dog night is a cold night.”

Miguel laughed. “Really?”

“Yes, well, I’m a six dog man myself, being as I’m a larger man. Tonight promises to be cold. Perhaps…since you don’t have your own dogs, you could join me if you get cold?”

Miguel stared at him and he wasn’t exactly sure what to make of what Tanni was saying. So he said, “That’s OK. I’ll be fine. Goodnight,” he said.

“Goodnight,” Tanni replied and disappeared into his room.

As Miguel got to his own room, it suddenly hit him that none of this was about dogs or being cold. “Damn it!” He swore. “I’m an idiot.” He ran out of his room and over to Tannabok’s. He knocked on the door over and over again. No one answered. Finally Tezul came over to him and said, “Obviously he’s not in there.”

“Where is he?” Miguel felt stupid and stricken.

“On the roof.”

“What?”

Tezul rolled his eyes. “On top of the palace. The roof is flat. There are stairs on the east face of the building. Walk around and you’ll see it. He likes to look at the stars sometimes.”

It took Miguel a few minutes to find the route to the top of the palace. It was very difficult to see his way in the black of night. The moon had not yet risen and the stars punctuated the sky like diamonds. Finally, he found the stairs and climbed. He saw Tannabok as a black space against the backdrop of stars. He walked across the flat roof and settled down next to him.

“What are you doing up here?” Miguel asked.

“Looking at the stars. You?” His voice was even and smooth. Miguel could feel the heat from his body in the chilly air. He smelled his familiar smell of tobacco and vanilla.

“Looking for you.”

“Why, Miguel?”

“I…” he started, but he was thrown off guard by the bluntness of the question. “I didn’t understand.”

“What is to understand?” Tannabok said. “You don’t want to sleep with me. It’s not anything to understand at all.”

Miguel wished he could see the chief’s face better. It was hidden by the darkness and even though Miguel’s night vision was better now, all he could catch was the flash of white in his eyes and his teeth. His earrings caught starlight. Miguel scooted closer and leaned over. His hands reached out and felt the warm bulk of Tannabok’s body.

The chief pushed him gently away. “No. Please don’t feel sorry for me,” he said.

Miguel pushed back. “I don’t.” His hands found his body in the dark again. He traced the curve of his belly and he felt Tannabok watching his movements. Perhaps Tannabok could see better in the dark than he could.

Again, Tannabok moved him aside. “Please don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you like that.”

“Like what?”

“You don’t have feelings for me.”

“You have feelings for me,” Miguel said.

“You cannot forget Tulio.”

“Should I?”

Tannabok looked away. “No. No, you shouldn’t.”

“Can’t I try with you?”

“Try what, exactly?”

“Everything,” said Miguel. He leaned into Tannabok and found his mouth. He kissed him. It was a brief kiss. Tannabok’s lips were warm and large. Miguel wanted more. He kissed him again, seeking the inside of his mouth with his tongue. Tannabok didn’t want to respond, not at first, but soon, his big arms were around Miguel, pulling him closer, pressing and crushing him against his body. “You care for me,” Miguel said.

Their faces were inches apart. He felt the warmth of Tanni’s breath on his lips. “Of course I care for you. But can you care for me?”

“Why couldn’t I?”

“I am not like Tulio.”

“I know,” Miguel said. His body was alive, thrilling to the feeling of being pressed against Tanni. He ground his hips into Tanni’s belly, would have preferred to grind against something else, but he was in the wrong position. Nevertheless, he knew Tannabok would feel what he meant him to feel. “Can you doubt my feelings?”

Tannabok looked into his eyes for a long time. He licked his lips and Miguel noticed the moon rising slowly behind him. It was a full moon and started to shed light on both of them. “No, I can’t doubt your feelings. But the body and the mind are separate entities.”

“My mind wills it.”

“Your heart, Miguel?”

Miguel didn’t answer, at least not with words. He kissed Tanni again and felt him respond completely, fully, pulling him close, wrapping his arms around him. He was warm against the cold. He was full of desire and wanted more.

Tannabok murmured in his ear, “Do you really want me?”

“Oh yes, very much. In every possible way.” Tanni pulled back to study Miguel’s face. In the moonlight now, he could clearly see Tannabok’s expressions. He could read the disbelief, the desire to believe and belief itself all crossing his features like clouds across the stars.

Miguel reached up and touched Tannabok’s face, tracing the many curves he found there. He touched Tanni’s lips with his fingers and felt the man shudder against him and then pull him closer. Tanni’s tongue darted out and then he’d drawn Miguel’s finger inside his mouth, sucking gently. That was something that had always turned Miguel on. He wanted to be fully and completely inside of Tannabok. Feeling the warm, wetness of his mouth always made him think of other, warm spaces on the body. He wanted so much and felt his groin hurt and ache and his erection strain against the soft cloth of his kilt. He wanted to get off the roof and down to Tanni’s bed, but as he released his finger, grabbed his head in his huge hands and kissed him, Miguel didn’t care where they fucked. He just wanted it.

Tannabok leaned back and lay down on the cold stone of the roof. He pulled Miguel down with him so that Miguel was lying awkwardly on top of the mound of Tanni’s belly. Miguel slid to the side and touched Tannabok’s bare skin on his chest. He traced the curves he found there, too, interested in every inch of his vast body. He leaned down and kissed him on the chest and tweaked each nipple gently with his teeth. Tanni moaned, a deep groaning sound that turned Miguel on even more than before.

He worked at the clasp that held Tannabok’s kilt shut and when it was open spread the cloth out to either side, like a blanket. His belly was brown, completely round and had just a trace of hair starting at his belly button and moving down, down to his erection.

He wasn’t sure where to start, because he wanted to touch every part of Tannabok’s body at once. He’d never made love to anyone so big. He liked the largeness of Tanni’s body, he realized. There was something sensuous about it, that it spoke of a person who wasn’t afraid to overindulge. Miguel liked to overindulge in some things. Given the choice, he’d be having sex everyday, many times a day. He felt there was something beautiful, too, in Tannabok’s round curves. His flesh was soft, but underneath was muscle and so he felt soft, but firm at the same time.

Miguel laid his cheek against Tannabok’s stomach and felt the warmth there, the smoothness of the mostly hairless skin and heard the inner sounds of his body. Tanni watched him as Miguel explored his body. His eyes were both amused and at times afraid. Miguel tried to smile at him whenever their eyes caught one another. He wanted Tanni to know that he liked him. He wasn’t sure if he’d learn to love him, but surely ‘like’ was a good enough place to start.

Looking down, he saw Tanni’s erection pressed tightly against his belly. He was long and thick, but not so large that Miguel couldn’t take him completely. Miguel glanced at Tanni for a moment, catching his eyes over the rise of his stomach. Then he leaned down and licked along the length of the shaft. Tannabok moaned softly and his breath caught for a moment.

Miguel prepared himself to take his entire erection in his mouth. He sucked and swallowed, forcing his throat to relax. He felt Tanni thrash and sometimes, he bucked his hips, choking Miguel temporarily. But they found a sort of rhythm and the cries grew louder, especially when Miguel reached down to fondle Tanni’s testicles. Just when Miguel thought that Tanni was going to climax inside of his mouth, he pulled away.

At first, Miguel was upset, but then he saw that Tannabok had sat up and was arranging his kilt on the ground. He lifted Miguel easily, like he was a child, and laid him gently on the rooftop. Like Miguel had done earlier, Tannabok undid the clasp on the kilt and spread out the fabric, revealing Miguel’s body.

He looked Miguel up and down in the same sort of look he’d used when Miguel was being fitted for clothes. Then he leaned in and kissed Miguel on the spot between his neck and his shoulders. Miguel squirmed with pleasure and thrust upwards, rubbing his erection against Tanni’s body. Tannabock bit gently on the same spot on his neck and this time, Miguel felt the tip of his cock against his ass. He squirmed closer, trying to push himself onto the erection. Then, without warning, Tanni pushed inside.

It was deep. He didn’t fool around, Miguel thought, and then all thoughts were lost as he surrendered himself to the sensations. It burned, it hurt and it felt beyond good. It was exactly the way Miguel liked it. He squirmed and pushed himself against Tanni as he was being fucked. Tanni kept his weight off of Miguel, but he still felt his heaviness, his warmth and it was almost too much.

Then Tanni whispered near his ear, “I can go deeper.” At first Miguel couldn’t make sense of the words. His mind was so full that thoughts and feelings registered as colors and sounds. When he made sense of his words, Miguel said, “Go all the way. I mean all-the-way. I can take it. I want it.”

Tannabok smiled briefly and then pushed the rest of the way inside with one hard, burning thrust. He didn’t move at first. He just stayed where he was, throbbing, hard and warm inside Miguel’s body. It hurt so much and felt so good. Tanni’s weight pressed more heavily on Miguel’s body and Miguel felt almost fever-hot now. He kept thrusting up and rubbing his cock against Tanni’s belly. Tanni was moving in and out now with a slow, deep rhythm. His eyes, when Miguel glimpsed them were lost.

“Don’t stop,” Miguel said. He felt so alive. He felt tight like a string on a mandolin. He felt like he was vibrating.

“I have to stop,” Tanni breathed. He pulled out suddenly, leaving Miguel breathless. He grabbed Miguel and rolled over, kissing him, crushing him.

Then Miguel was on top, in the suddenly chill night air, looking over Tanni’s stomach at his eyes. They were full, almost satiated with pleasure, but Miguel could see he wanted more. His cock was wet and glistening in the moonlight. “Fuck me,” Tanni said.

Miguel’s breath caught and he was still for a moment in the cold. Then he pushed up Tanni’s thick legs and leaned down, licking and probing inside with his tongue. He pushed a finger inside and heard Tanni moan and felt him shudder suddenly, an earthquake of movement.

Miguel looked up and Tanni grinned lopsidedly at him. “Don’t fool around.”

Miguel laughed and got up. He kneeled and leaned in, pushing gently, coyly against Tannabok’s entrance. Then he pushed inside just a little, teasing more. Tanni groaned and his arms found Miguel’s shoulders. He pulled on Miguel, mouthing, “More.”

Miguel gave it to him. He pushed inside hard, then found a swift rhythm. He gripped Tanni’s fat thighs, holding on as the man’s hips bucked. Then, he reached forward to grip Tanni’s large erection. He stroked as he fucked him. He caught Tanni’s eyes and they weren’t lost anymore, but full. He grinned for a brief moment before lust crossed his face again and his eyes half-closed and his mouth opened.

Miguel knew they were both reaching the end. He loved the climax and yet always wanted to delay it. It felt so good being inside of Tanni. It was hot, tight and wet. He saw Tanni bite his own lips so hard that he drew blood. He pushed inside harder and deeper than before. He was still for a moment, pulse beating inside his lover’s body. Then he felt Tanni buck, thrusting into the air. Miguel grabbed his cock again, stroking, knowing these were the final moments. He felt Tanni push into his hand and this time, his erection felt even harder, stiffer…just more. Then he exploded and Miguel did, too.

He knew they were both loud. He heard his own name and heard himself say “Tanni” over and over again. And then he felt transparent, spent and happy. He collapsed heavily on top of Tanni, straddling his stomach.

“Oof!” Tanni said. “Careful. I’m more fragile than I look.” He smiled and gathered Miguel’s body to his own. They lay still under the stars for a long time. There was no movement, no sounds except the small breeze and movement of their hearts and lungs.

Finally, Miguel said, “Should we do it again?”

Tanni raised an eyebrow. “Of course. But in bed this time.”

Miguel grinned. “Let’s go.”

* * *

End of part 1. Part 2 will see Tulio in the flesh and some adventure. If you have any feedback, please let me know. I don’t have a beta reader and so…. This is all just very raw. :)

Other random notes: I knew nothing about Mesoamerican culture when I started this, and I’ve learned a lot since then. El Dorado isn’t a Mayan city or an Incan city or even an Aztec city. It’s a fantasy creation that takes the best of those civilizations and posits a utopia. Since these cultures were constantly at war with one another, I imagine that’s why El Dorado preferred to be hidden. The people of El Dorado decided they’d had enough war.

I think it’s pretty unrealistic that Miguel and Tulio don’t need to learn a new language when they go to El Dorado, but it’s a kid’s movie and even Stargate ignores that sort of thing for dramatic convention. However, I’ve decided that some concepts would still be alien for both Miguel and Chief Tannabok. Anything Biblical, for example, wouldn’t translate for the chief.