Page 8 of Rubbing One Out

His spare bedroom, once a neutral shade of beige and brown, now resembled a room Ben had once seen at Alton Towers. He’d been there helping out with an animal in distress and been given a tour of the top floor and the suites. This room resembled the Arabian Nights one, although with more colour and a sense of style more suited to a showgirl’s dressing room.

Daeliel smirked as he put his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and pulled them down to reveal a pert backside and more of the tattoo that had captured Ben’s imagination the night before. “Do you forget who I am and what I can do?”

Ben averted his gaze, although it took a lot of effort. “Whoa, dude. Not cool.” Way cool. If it were any cooler, I’d be a dicksicle. “Don’t you have privacy requirements where you come from?”

Daeliel paused in the process of pulling on a skin-tight pair of pale blue chinos. No underwear, Ben thought with a gulp. He’s commando under those.

“Privacy? Don’t you like looking at me?” Daeliel sounded piqued. “Where I come from, bodies are made to be displayed and explored. Don’t you find mine to your liking?”

Ben swallowed. “I, um, like it, um, very much. It’s, well, um, here in this world, we’re sort of more, um, uptight about showing our private bits to just anyone. We’re British. We’re not as open about expressing our sexuality as you seem to be.”

Daeliel scoffed as he picked up a filmy indigo shirt with a Chinese collar trimmed with gold. “Ah, yes. The human traits of coyness and denial. I’d forgotten. It’s been a while since I was in your world.” He pulled the shirt over his head, and it moulded like silk to his tanned skin. “I find that a little tedious. I tend to take my kit off any chance I get.” The wicked smile Daeliel threw Ben’s way was incendiary, and threatened to ignite Ben’s underwear given the heat in his groin.

The Djinn waved a hand around the room. “Do you like it? I got myself a few creature comforts and conjured up a liveable place to spend my time in this world. I may be forced to be here, but the least I can do is make it a home from home, yes?”

“It’s very you,” Ben admitted. “From the little I know of you, anyway. Is this what your room on your home planet looks like?”

Daeliel made an irritated sound. “Oh, friscuit. Another one who talks like a sci-fi nerd.” He said disparagingly. “I don’t come from another planet. I come from another realm, outside this one. I am not a Dr Who contender, nor do I have anything to do with that tiresome show you call StarTrek.”

Ben’s temper flared. “I’m sorry, but this is all new to me. Are you always such a condescending git?”

Daeliel’s eyes widened, a look of surprise crossing his face. “You’re angry with me?” He didn’t sound as if that happened often.

“You’re an arsehole. I’ve never had a genie make a home in my house before so forgive me if I ask stupid questions.”

Daeliel pursed his lips. “Still you use that new-fangled terminology.” He snapped his mouth shut, no doubt because Ben moving closer to him was a warning sign. “I mean, if I have offended you, I’m sorry.”

Ben stopped and gestured to the room. “Forget it. How did you manage to get this room to look like this in such a short time?”

Daeliel blinked. “I’m a Djinn. I can create environments and scenarios to fit my surroundings.”

Ben felt like he was fighting a losing battle. “Yes, but where’s my furniture and where did yours come from?”

The Djinn’s face cleared. “Ah, I see. Well, I simply opened an ethereal portal to my realm and rented a storage locker for your stuff. I then took mine out of storage and voila.” He waved around the room again.

“You rented an outer realm storage locker?” Ben asked, his voice strangled. “How does that even fucking happen?”

Daeliel frowned. “I paid a deposit, filled in a form and—”

Ben was ready to blow in frustration. “Oh my God. You are the most annoying individual I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a few.” He took a deep breath. “I’m less concerned with what you did to rent the damned locker, but more the how. How the hell does it all work?”

Daeliel didn’t say anything. He huffed and made a strange gesture with his fingers. The air around them grew heavy, dull, almost like the aftermath of an explosion, when everything was muted. The colours in the room grew dim, and something strange formed in front of them. Ben likened it to a cloud, fluffy and transparent. He gasped when he saw the familiar shape of his old bed and the shabby chest of drawers.

“Would you like me to bring it back?” Daeliel asked with a polite sneer. “If you’re that partial to it all…” He waggled his fingers, and to Ben’s amazement, the bed began to move closer, making its way to the entrance of the portal. Ben had visions of a Bedknobs and Broomsticks scenario, and replied hastily, “No, leave it there. I only wanted to see how you did it.”

I can’t believe I’m havingthis conversation. I must still be dreaming.

To make sure, he did what all people did when they were trying to see whether they were dreaming or not. He pinched himself. Harder than he’d intended because he yowled.

“Ow.” He gazed around him in a daze. “I guess I am awake. Holy crap.”

Daeliel threw him a shade-filled glance and looked around the room. “Let me do another little trick to convince you.” His lip curled and with a flick of his fingers, a large, ornate hand mirror lifted off the dressing table next to Ben and floated past him, into the portal, to land on the bed on the other side.

“I have another one of those,” Daeliel muttered. He made a circling motion with his fingers, and the portal closed. Ben stood there in astonishment.

“That’s how it works,” the Djinn decreed. “I still have magic, even here, simply not as powerful. Happy now?”

“Huh,” Ben grunted. His mind was blown, and he needed a stiff drink. “Going back to something you said earlier. You’ve been here in this world before?”