Goro: Kissing

(A/N: Content warning for attempted rape. Skip the two sections mentioning "Big Baron" to avoid those parts.)

--

"Once, a man tried to kiss me after I'd said no. So I bit his tongue out."

Sparkles was older than Goro. Almost an adult, actually. She was a tiefling who'd filed all her front teeth into sharp points, and she grinned as she told him the story, sitting across from him in their hideout under a bridge.

Despite her scary smile, she was nice. Goro liked her.

"Doesn't matter if you're not a strong person, as long as you've got sharp teeth," she said. She held one of Goro's hands out from his body and wrapped her fingers around his upper arm. "So skinny. And you've got pretty eyes. There'll be men who want to do things to you, but you don't have to take it. Remember, you can always bite them. Let's make sure you've got the best equipment for it."

She brought out her file then, and Goro started crying when she went for his mouth. "Don't cry," she told him. "Crying makes you look weak and scared, and if people think you're weak, they'll do anything they want to you."

She didn't make him file his teeth, but she continued to recommend he try it, every now and then.

#

Sparkles was wrong about the teeth. Three weeks later she lay dead on the ground, her throat slit by the man who'd come under the bridge to steal their food. Goro stood over the man's body, breathing heavy, knife in hand, covered in blood that was only a little bit his own.

Didn't matter if you had sharp teeth. Only if you had the sharpest knife.

He thought about crying for Sparkles, but remembered she'd told him not to cry.

#

Big Baron wasn't really a baron, but he sure was big. A gigantic motherfucker. Six and half feet tall with arms and legs like tree trunks. There'd been a rumor about a rumor, a story that some guy said he was half Goliath, and that guy wound up with his body floating by the docks.

So Goro didn't ask if it was true. He just wanted something to eat, and the Baron had food.

"What'll you give me for it?" the Baron said. He was enthroned in the back office of a storehouse, one which held no wares but was filled with people: drinking, smoking, dealing, and *eating*.

"Don't have anything," Goro said. "They said I could come here for a meal, even if I had no money."

"True, you don't need money. But usually I have people do jobs for me." The Baron was a young man still, but his voice was gravely. "What kinds of jobs you do?"

"Pick pockets, mostly."

"How about locks?"

Goro shook his head.

"Can you scale buildings?"

He shook his head again.

"Can you suck cock?"

"Fuck off," Goro said.

The Baron laughed, a sound so robust it made Goro's teeth rattle. "I give a real good meal for cocksucking," he said, and rubbed a hand over his lower abdomen. "Fresh bread, grilled meat, and a cup of cider too."

Goro's traitorous stomach growled at the mention of the food. He turned to go.

"How about a kiss?" the Baron said. "Bowl of soup, for a kiss."

Goro stopped.

Fuck, he was so fucking hungry. And a kiss would be over fast.

He looked over his shoulder, to see if it was a real offer.

The Baron smiled and beckoned with his fingers. "Come on now. Just one kiss. Or two, and I'll throw in a drink."

"Food first," Goro said.

"That's not the way it works here. You ask any of my other customers outside."

It had been worth a shot. Goro's stomach was turning over on itself, a gnawing hole that was all he could think about. He walked back to the Baron and leaned in, planning on the quickest, most sterile peck on the lips he could manage.

The Baron grabbed the back of his head and anchored their faces together. His tongue filled Goro's mouth, a big tongue for a big bastard, and Goro gagged until his eyes were watering. He thought of Sparkles and her pointy teeth. Even they might not be able to cut through a slab of meat that thick.

The Baron released him and Goro coughed and spat on the ground.

"What do you say to a cold drink?"

"Just soup," Goro choked out.

It was good soup. Might've been the best thing he'd ever put in his mouth.

#

She said her name was Pinky. She was either an elf or a half-elf; Goro wasn't sure how to tell the difference, just that she looked mostly normal but had pointed ears like him.

"How old are you?" he tried.

"Fifteen," she said, which was exactly his age. He stared at her hard, looking for any tells that she was lying. She either really was fifteen, or was too good a liar to be fifteen.

He didn't sleep under bridges anymore. Abandoned houses were more secure, though they sometimes had people in them already. That was fine. Goro had knives. Not that he would've stabbed Pinky. She wasn't trying to hurt him.

They lay down to sleep next to each other on the floor.

"You want to try kissing?" Pinky asked him.

Her lips were dry and flaky, and she tasted like old cheese. A couple of her teeth were broken off, and they scraped his tongue.

There was a tap on the door, which Goro had tied shut with a piece of string. Better than nothing. At least, until Pinky got up and untied it. Outside were three older boys Goro recognized, because he'd stolen from them earlier that day.

"Here you go," Pinky said to them, indicating Goro. Then she said to him, "Sorry, kid. You know, you're actually not a bad kisser."

She left, and the three boys came in.

It was fine. Goro had the sharpest knife.

#

Goro had to be real fucking hungry to go see the Big Baron. Usually happened once or twice a year, those lean times in winter when folks with homes were stocking up and putting less into their garbage bins, and their purses were harder to reach under more layers of clothing.

Whenever he was on day five or six of nothing but chicken bones someone else had already gnawed dry, and he was starting to get spots in his vision and lose track of time, he would give in and go to the Baron. Some people, they were willing to kill for something to eat, but Goro never was one of them. A nasty kiss was the alternative.

One night, the Baron decided kisses weren't enough. Goro tried to bolt for the door. That was how it was supposed to work, right? With the smaller guy being faster, more agile…

Strength was what mattered, it turned out, and Big Baron was one strong son of a bitch. Strong, and heavy. So heavy he didn't even bother pinning Goro's arms, just laid his full weight on him, his meaty tongue in Goro's mouth, his hands pulling at Goro's clothes. Goro reached his arms overhead and slid his right hand up his left sleeve, where his fingers closed around a knife handle, deliciously hard, and warm from resting against his skin.

He stabbed the Baron a few times, including once right in the heart. The Baron was even heavier dead than alive, and for a moment Goro was frozen under him, warm and drenched in blood, in a strange state of half-relieved and half-panicked, wondering if he was going to be trapped and suffocate.

When he finally shoved the body off, the air felt frigid on all the wet places. There was so much blood. He was sheeted in it. His hands were dripping, and he couldn't maneuver the knife back into its sheath, so he just held it. He slipped a few times trying to get to his feet.

He threw his shoulders back and walked out of the office. All eyes were on him as he marched through the storehouse, dressed in red from his chin to his feet. A few of the Baron's lackeys took one look at him and ran for the office to see what he'd done. Goro wasn't worried. He had the sharpest knife.

He got a funny nickname after that. "Footprints," people on the street called him, if they knew who he was.

*You know the kid who killed the Big Baron? I hear he leaves bloody footprints everywhere he goes.*

#

The thing Goro didn't expect about jail was just how fucking boring it was.

They weren't even in *real jail* yet. It was some kind of holding area, with him and a handful of other rats the paladins had picked up. They'd been waiting for over a day, fighting over the moldy bread whenever it was tossed into them. They were awaiting sentencing, was what the paladins said. The Citadel for some of them. Executions for others. Service to the church, if they hadn't hurt anyone.

They'd got Goro for a coin purse. One which had split open, seconds after he nicked it, and scattered its contents all over the ground.

He kept casting glances at the young man sitting on the floor next to him. The man was real damn pretty. He had green eyes and very pink lips.

"You want to try kissing?" Goro asked.

The young man looked at him sullenly. "Yeah, alright." Goro noticed he had flecks of dried blood on one side of his face.

The kiss was pretty nice, until someone threw a rock-hard bread heel at them.

#

Goro had learned a cantrip for making bright light, but he still preferred the soft glow of oil lamps. It was late at night in the abbey library, and he was studying a book on pact magic written in Infernal. He knew the language well enough now to get at least the gist of anything he read, and he kept a dictionary at hand to help him translate any words he didn't know.

Of course, so far all the words he didn't know weren't in the dictionary. He had a list going so he could check with someone later. Someone far, far away from the church.

The library door creaked open, and Goro tensed, preparing to hide the book. But it was just Amari. She wouldn't go getting him in trouble. He relaxed and kept reading.

She walked to the table he was studying at and looked over his shoulder. "What are you up to now?" she asked.

"Nothing that concerns you," he said.

"Hmm." She leaned closer to examine the page he was on. She didn't read Infernal—at least, as far as he knew—but she'd recognize what it was, no doubt. He hoped he wasn't going to have to deflect more questions. "Goro, I'm so proud of you."

The words had the same effect as someone splashing acid on him. Unexpected, and scalding, and he recoiled, physically drawing away from her and twisting in his chair. "What? Why?"

"You've studied so hard. When you came to me—oh, what it is now, two or three years ago—"

"Five years, Amari."

"Five years ago, you were illiterate—"

"I wasn't illiterate," he snapped. "I knew thieves' cant. And some words in Common."

"Functionally illiterate, I think is how they say it. But look how far you've come. You're reading books in other languages."

His whole body was tense. His fingers were twitching, and his jaw clenched. Why did it hurt him so bad? She was trying to be nice, wasn't she? But no, he couldn't…

"Are you making fun of me?" he asked.

"*No*." She gave a little sad, desperate sigh and sat down next to him. "Oh, Goro. No, I'm not."

Amari wasn't a liar. But he couldn't fathom that she might actually be proud of him. His own thoughts had reached an impasse.

After a few moments, she put her arm around him. He was learning not to hate being touched, when it came from her. Then she did something she'd never done before. She pulled him close and kissed the side of his head. It was quick, and then she stood up again.

"Don't stay up too late," she told him, softly. And she left.

"Good night," he called, just as the door was swinging shut. He wasn't sure if she heard him.

#

Mishka's lips looked so soft, but the kiss was hard. Goro pressed against the wall, Mishka squeezing a fistful of his tunic.

Simultaneously terrifying, and incredible.

*He wants me.*

An alien thought, and even more alien to like the sound of it. A strange way to hold power over someone, who also held power over him. A delicate balance. Goro would love a way to tip the scales in his favor, but…

*He wants me.*

Ah, fuck, he felt weak.

Who was he kidding? Being wanted didn't make him powerful. It made him desperate. A touch-starved dog leaning into the hand of a stranger who rubbed its ears. The notion that someone could like him—someone besides Amari and her motherly affection, anyway—that someone would seek him out, want to be near him…

Mishka's hand slid under his shirt, and it was the most potent mix of *yes* and *no* he'd ever felt.

Then Mishka stepped back. "Good night." He looked drunk, and pleased with himself.

Fucking jackass.

#

Goro had once read something about a warlock whose demonic patron gifted him power through sex. He thought it was the hottest fucking thing he'd ever heard of. He felt like his mind was melting, he wanted it so bad.

For ten years he carried that story in the back of his mind, fantasizing.

He still thought about kissing Diva, sometimes. Kissing her and biting out her tongue. Jamming his thumbs in her eye sockets and gouging out her sick black eyes. Just fucking ripping her apart.

God, it felt so good.

#

Fuck, he wanted to kiss her.

He almost did it. Right then, when she was talking about Jasper, how Jasper said she was too easy and too sweet. He pictured himself getting up, walking to her bed, pulling the curtains back, and cupping her face in his hands.

What would she taste and smell like? How would her lips feel? Would she make any sound? Would she touch him? Would she… shove him away, because what kind of man just crawled into someone's bed and kissed them without asking?

But the thought of asking made him feel hot and sick, like the boat was rocking them around wildly.

Fucking Jasper. She'd discovered a precious gem, held it in her hands, then tossed it away like it was nothing.

"She didn't fucking deserve you," he said.

What, and he did?

*Too easy*. What the hell kind of bullshit was that, anyway? At the moment, Goro couldn't imagine anything more insurmountable than figuring out how to kiss Nixie. The gem Jasper handled so carelessly, Goro would continue to look at and not dare touch, afraid he would drop it. Scratch it. Crack it with his too-tight grip.

He skipped over the hard parts in his mind, and imagined holding her. Touching her face and her hair. Her breath mixing with his. He fell asleep thinking about it.

Such sweet agony, dreaming of kissing.