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"I'm honestly kinda impressed," Tanner said, sprawled back on the least-soaked part of Mike's bed. He was gingerly trying to wipe the mess of satyr come off. Mostly it smeared it around; it worked into a lather.

"Ohhhhh, this is bad." Seleukos was pacing, hooves alternately squelching and stomping as he moved through the more or less soaked patches of carpet. "Classes start tomorrow! Morning!"

Tanner laid back, still hazy in the afterglow but grimacing as the motion smeared clammy come across his skin. "Okay, plan: first, I'm gonna take a shower, and you're gonna try to... scoop up the worst of the mess, and we'll go from there."

"Hey -- H-hey!" Seleukos reached for Tanner as he grabbed Mike's bathrobe and flipflops from his closet, heading for the door.

"It'll be fine, dude," he said, before firmly shutting it in Seleukos' face.

It was a good thing it was like four in the morning; the walk down to the showers felt like a thousand opportunities for someone to pop out of a room and come face-to-face with him, shirtless and shiny, reeking satyr spunk soaking into his jeans. At last he wasn't leaving much of a trail.

His jeans hit the floor with a splat, and the rest of the shower went much the same way; his hair was nearly glued together from the mess. After a while -- he didn't want to leave Seleukos stewing too long -- he just gave up and called it good enough, even though his hair still felt coarse and he probably still stunk.

Seleukos jolted when he opened the door, dropping behind his closet door like that would hide how he was still a gigantic demon-looking satyr monster. Hopefully no one was watching the dorm windows at four in the morning.

Tanner blinked. "You know, I'm going to freak out so hard about this once I get more than five hours sleep. You're the one who dropped satyrs exist on me with basically no warning."

The room was... still a mess, but honestly there wasn't that much Seleukos could do. The blobs he'd shot up the wall, onto the ceiling, were just discolored splotches, and the windows were streaky and crusted but no longer completely coated with translucent ooze. He'd opened one of them and set up a fan exhausting. His sheets were in a pile on the floor, thick come slowly wicking through at the bottom.

"Man, that's such a mess."

"I never had to worry about that back in the day," Seleukos said, shoving a literal handful of come into a trash bag after scraping it off the carpet. "I mean, either way. No one cares if you come gallons if you're living it up in the forest. And like... man, I came a lot before, but it was always enough for like, tissues." He scraped the carpet again, punching the handful of slime into the bag.

"Well, at least I'm pretty sure this is nowhere near anything my brain could cook up." Tanner shrugged off Mike's bathrobe, chucking his jeans onto the pile of sheets. Seleukos looked up, lips pulling back in a grin at Tanner just standing there naked. His cock lurched, slapping against his thigh, a thick cord of pre drooling onto the carpet. "Seriously?"

"Dude, it's literally what satyrs are known for." Seleukos kept looking, cock slowly stiffening. "Not like we could make it worse at this point." He prowled closer, on his hands and knees, cock swinging back and forth, a zigzag of pre slashing across the carpet, and, well, Tanner let him, leaning back against the wall, legs spread. "And can you blame me?" he asked, on his knees, tongue practically unfurling from his mouth, long and purple-tinged as he lapped up Tanner's thigh. "You're hot."

"Fuck, dude," Tanner said, watching Seleukos inch closer, his own cock slowly flushing, heavier as Seleukos nuzzed his balls, skull digging divots up his stomach. "I just got out of the shower, at least don't come all over me again."

"Got it," Seleukos said, or at least a vague groan that sounded a little like that. He opened wide, lapping up to the junction of Tanner's thigh, lips pressing against the side of his cock. He jerked his cock to the side, both hands squeezing like it was fighting against him, just in time for the next squirt of pre to splatter across the wall instead of right across him.

Tanner cupped the muzzle of Seleukos' skull, tipping it back; Seleukos pulled back, lips dragging up the length of his cock until they came to rest right at the crown of his cockhead, dimpling as they parted. The inside of his mouth was slick and hot, pursing tight around his cockhead.

---

Anyway, they fucked. It was hot. Tanner narrowly avoided taking another cumshot to the face, and Seleukos sprayed another huge flood of jizz up the wall. Then he started freaking out again.

"I feel like we're stuck in a loop here," Tanner said, this time avoiding the bed, wrapped up in Mike's spare sheet. He was wearing it like a toga, because he had a sense of humor about the whole ancient Greek satyr thing. He was going to freak out about this so hard once he had time to process it, but now everything was just a hazy blur of euphoric tiredness.

"I think I have an idea," Seleukos said, stopping his pacing. The carpet was kind of frothing where he'd been pacing, hooves crusted over with jizz. "There's like, uh. Kind of a secret sign? And I didn't notice it -- I mean, uh, Mike didn't notice it, right, but in retrospect... anyway, there's a place in Lowertown that might have something useful."

"Something useful for not being a huge demon satyr?"

"Like, a glamour, maybe? Honestly I don't really know much about magic." Seleukos met Tanner's disbelieving gaze. "What? Seriously, I just hung out in forests and seduced whoever came through, that's not magic."

"So what's the place?"

"Uh, Alchemist Books, like, that magic shop? It's--"

"Acolyte. I'm familiar." A pause. "Seriously? There's nothing in there but candles and incense. And self-help books."

"Well I hope they have something or else I'm fucked."

Tanner shrugged. "There's online classes I guess. On the internet no one knows you're a satyr."

"I guess." He sounded pained. "But seriously, please go see if they have... anything useful."

It was a few hours before anything would be open. They fucked again, Tanner mewling while Seleukos rimmed him, thick purple-warted tongue squirming inside him like a tentacle, claws spreading his cheeks, skull lines and ridges of pressure up his back, Seleukos' cock fountaining slime until it formed a messy river of froth pouring down his cock, coating his balls and haunches, spraying up across Tanner's legs.

Tanner kind of gave up on keeping clean, just wiping himself down afterward, trying to sniff-test himself for caked-on satyr come. The room reeked enough it was impossible to tell.

It was light outside, and it felt like he'd been awake so long that time had stopped having any meaning. Like all the illusions about the world had fallen apart. His internal monologue had flat-out stopped a few hours back.

Ideally that would've stopped the hallucinations too, but that was just the way the world was going on this impossible morning. There were black-rot humanoid figures smearing through each other in the flowerbed of the magic shop, one standing uncomfortably close to the railing of the stairs up.

The magic shop was called "Acolyte Books & Herbs" actually, and he could definitely smell the herbs when he stepped inside. There was a peppy-looking grandmother type just setting up the till, and it felt like in some cosmic sense she was his exact opposite. The type to be peppy and upbeat about bullshit, where he was getting increasingly frustrated with real magic. Maybe that was an unfair conclusion to draw; this whole situation had him dimly annoyed.

"Oh, hello! Good morning! Do you need help looking for anything?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm looking for--" Probably Seleukos could've been more specific about what exactly he wanted. Illusion spells? "--a spellbook? I guess?"

"We have some books for beginning practitioners!" She pointed to the bookshelves in the corner. One of the big front-facing books had a cover of a white woman sitting in a lotus position, blobs that were probably supposed to be her chakras ablaze with light. Title: The Young Witch's Guide To The Soul.

Tanner smeared a hand across his face. Greasy. Maybe just caked-on satyr come he hadn't cleaned up. "No, I don't want new age bullshit." The old woman arched her brows. "I mean, so, my friend turned himself into a satyr. Like for real."

Like, what, probably what Mike and Cose did was technically necromancy. Autonecromancy. Maybe that was a thing the hippy wiccan kind of witches frowned on, so he should assume he should avoid mentioning that part. Maybe the hippy wiccan part was all a front, which was awfully funny because you'd think they would've told the other fucking hippy wiccans that.

Honestly this whole day being a complete psychological break brought on by midterm stress was looking more and more likely than fucking magic. Less epistemologically stressful too.

Tanner just kept talking. "And like he said something about a secret sign? Didn't actually tell me what it was. Hopefully they let all the employees in on the secret or else I'm going to look totally crazy. Anyway so like, a way so people don't notice he's a satyr is kind of what we're after here. ...Is any of this getting through, seriously."

"I think we might have something, actually." The woman said.

"Holy shit, really?!"

"Yes. Follow me." And she turned back into the employees only section, which was just a side room, a cramped little lounge area with most of the chairs covered in cardboard boxes of books yet to be fully unpacked. But there was a side room, and that was where things got weird: tiny and cramped and musty-smelling, shelves on all the walls and a bare table in the center, hardly a few inches between the two. "Don't touch anything," she said, and Tanner dropped his hands from where he'd been about to grab a gigantic amulet that basically screamed "cliched cursed magical artifact".

"So this is the real shit, huh?" he said. The old woman ignored him. "So why isn't this out front anyway?"

"It could be dangerous. What I'm going to give you, if it falls into the wrong hands--" she shook her head. "The results could be catastrophic."

"You've known me for a minute! How do you know I'm not the wrong hands?"

"Do you plan on telling anyone?"

"Uh, honestly, yes, probably." He looked at a jar full of preserved something-or-other. "This is like a fucking drug lab meets chemical weapon dump, how is this safer than having a fucking like, magical certification agency."

She snorted, and finally pulled a book from the shelf, laying it on the table. "Here."

"You've got to be kidding me." The book was... handbound in leather, yellowed and musty like someone'd let it sit out in a garage for a few years. He flipped it open: handwritten in jagged cursive, additions made in the margins and between lines until the thing was nearly illegible.

"Seriously? This is like some valuable relic here, I guess? And no one made copies? The printing press was invented hundreds of years ago and you're telling me not a single witch decided to jump on that bandwagon? There's a reason why there aren't any medieval calligraphy printings of 50 Shades Of Grey."

"If you don't want it--" she started, but Tanner clutched the musty old thing to his chest:

"No way you gave it to me, no backsies." Then: "Did you give it to me? No payment or anything. That's bad salesmanship."

"It sounds like you're in quite the straits, young man. You couldn't buy this book for money, anyway, and you don't have any other currency worth trading for. Maybe one day you'll have means to repay the favor."

"Oh, awesome, in debt to the mysterious magic shop. Great. So like what, there's a magical barter economy? No magic gold coins?"

"Well," she said, circling the point. "Some rituals call for certain components to imbue their powers on the witch casting, and if you do have a satyr friend... it would be his issue that would be most sought after."

Tanner blinked, once, slowly. "You're saying you want satyr jizz. Is what you're telling me. Christ, I'm sure you could fucking scrape some off me at this point--" and at her shocked look: "You're the one who brought it up!"

It was such a good thing there was no one else in the store.

"Sure, whatever, it's not like he's got it in short supply, I'm sure he'd be happy to."

Back in the main room, the old woman looked at him and said: "You should be a little more open-minded. Accept that the world contains many things you can't see."

Tanner cast a glance out the window, where the oozing tar things were still ruining the flowerbed. "Yeah, it's more that my world contains a bunch of bullshit that no one else can see."

The old grandma looked at him, and with a creeping kind of dread he knew exactly what she was gonna say before she said it. "If you have the Sight then you should--"

"Oh fuck off!" Tanner cut her off, voice growing to a shout. "Maybe I'd believe that if your new-age seeing-spirits bullshit books sounded like a schizophrenia diagnostic. 'Spirits unknown to mortal eyes' or whatever you get off on thinking about is just a bullshit non-answer to a question you don't actually want to think about." He shook his head. "Anyway, whatever. Thanks for the book. Later."

Back at the dorms:

Tanner shouldered Mike's door open so hard it crashed against the wall. "I've solved all your fucking problems. Again! And they're all such fucking bullshit."

Seleukos was jerking off. Of course. Sprawled across his bed, hooves spilling off the end, back arched to his the only part of his body that was actually touching were his shoulders and ankles. One hand pumping his cock, the other twisted behind him, fingers jammed up his ass. His chest was a solid glaze of pre, coating his skull and drooling from his upper jaw in long tassels, spilling across his stubbled face. Tanner was starting to get a sense of just what satyr sex drives were like. It was hot but honestly now was not the time.

"Bullshit?" Seleukos' voice rasped a little, rough, and tipped his head, a new line of pre oozing from the eye sockets of his skull, and okay yeah it was really hot.

"The granny there did the whole, maybe you're seeing spirits thing. I fucking hate the maybe you're seeing spirits thing."

"Was it really that bad?" Seleukos at least had the grace to let go of his cock; it hit his skin with a wet splash.

"Literally everyone I told about it except you said I was 'seeing spirits'; it's kind of a sore spot. You are literally one of my hallucinations. Well, 'hallucinations', you know. This is a big deal for me."

"You know, there's like... medication for that."

Tanner slammed the book down on the table, a sharp bang. "Yeah, because I'm super enthused to go up to a doctor all 'so I'm the bad kind of crazy who sees shit and hears voices and can't tell fantasy from reality.'" He mimed talking with his hands, big cartoony sockpuppet motions sans sockpuppet.

"'And this is newly important because now I have a magical saytr boyfriend!'" He dropped his hands. "It would not go well."

"Oh. Um." Seleukos scratched the back of his head, where his hair was tufting out from under his skull. "...boyfriend?"

Tanner blew out a breath, lips tugging up despite himself. "Man, if you did all that just to get laid, I am kicking you the fuck out."

"No, it's cool -- I mean, yeah. Boyfriend." A pause while they just grinned at each other. "So, uh, the book...?"

"Oh, I have no clue, the old grandma there just gave it to me and said it'd help. Honestly for all I know it could be total bullshit."

"She just gave it to you?"

"Well, she wanted some of your jizz. I guess you could take a big trashbag down but honestly we could just stiff her, I don't really care. I kind of yelled at her anyway, probably she doesn't have high hopes on getting her ancient relic back."

"You didn't really."

"If a kindly old grandma is gonna keep the secrets of the universe from all of human society for kicks, than a kindly old grandma is gonna just have to deal with me yelling sometimes, is what I think. Got another question?"

"Uh, you gonna go to class? I've got class in--" Seleukos looked at the clock. "Thirty minutes." He looked down. "Which I'm not gonna get to, fuck, this book better have something in it."

"Honestly at this point I don't care." Tanner was so tired everything was pulsing at the edges, in time with his heartbeat. "I'm going to sleep for like a day and when I wake up I'm honestly kind of hoping this has all been a psychotic break." At Seleukos' affronted look: "I mean, not that you're not hot, but it's kind of... you know."

"Not really."

"Anyway, later."

He ran into Greg on his way into his room, leaving on his way to class, which meant that his class started in -- fifteen minutes ago. "Oh right," he said. "You exist."

Greg looked at him. "Are you high?"

"God, I hope." Tanner pushed past him and into the room, shutting it in Greg's face. Probably he wasn't winning any good roommate awards, but he profoundly didn't care.

Then he passed out for a lot of hours.

When he woke up it was dark, sky black in the window, streetlights painting lopsided shapes over the walls and ceiling. He blinked a few times, reveling in being almost-asleep, carefree, because there was something really stressful that he was avoiding -- except then someone knocked on the door again, and, right, that was what woke him up.

Tanner shambled over to the door, rubbing his eyes, squinting at the hallway light: Mike. His mind turned over like an engine trying to start. "Wait," he said. "Last night--"

"All that happened." Mike said quickly, and then leered at him: oh right, he was only in his underwear, boxers that were more than a little stained with satyr come. Mike stepped forward, and Tanner fell back to let him inside -- and as he walked forward he just kind of shed his body, like he was shrugging out of a backpack, and so by the time Tanner had the door closed it was Seleukos who was standing there, buck naked, Mike's clothes cast off onto the ground. He sat on Tanner's bed, dwarfing its frame. "So guess who figured out a glamour spell!"

"Okay, you are absolutely gonna spill everything you know about your bullshit magic to me."

"I mean... I don't know how well that would work, like, trying to figure it all out. It's like, magic and shit."

"Are you fucking joking? Yeah, there are no reasonable explanations and then I have conclusive and extremely visible evidence that magic exists." Tanner thought for a second, mind kicking over and actually spinning to life this time. "Plus like: You (meaning Cose) couldn't possess yourself (meaning Mike) until you had your skull, so there's a physical component here? You absolutely already told me you were bound to your skull, in some abstract and extremely nebulous way. You're already following more rules than just 'make shit up'; 'science' is just figuring out what those rules are." He narrowed his eyes. "Even if you're not telling me."

Seleukos grabbed his arm where he'd been waving it around, calmly but implacably pulling Tanner into a full-body hug. Tanner accepted it for a few seconds and started squirming. "You're kind of freaking out about this," he said, voice low in Tanner's ear.

"Uh, yes, I think of all the things in the world worth freaking out about, this is worth it. I think finding out literally everything you know about the way the world works is wrong is pretty deserving of a freakout."

"I'm just saying, I don't really want to get turned into a guinea pig, y'know?"

Tanner stilled. "Okay, sure. Reasonable. Granted. But come the fuck on. I am absolutely going to grill you about this and you are going to grin and bear it. Tigers and manticores were both mythological creatures until people realized tigers exist, and I am going to add satyrs -- and maybe a lot of other shit! -- to that list. The list of formerly-mythical creatures. Do manticores exist? This is important."

"I've never met one."

"Ha ha." Tanner punched Seleukos on the arm. "I guess revolutionizing the world can wait until after I graduate. Or flunk out, whichever." He lolled back, sprawling over Seleukos with his limbs spread. "Probably I should see how I did on the midterm."

"Probably. I think I have like a C so far; it's so bad."

"Did you go to class? Was there a magic spell for getting a full night's sleep in like five minutes?"

"Nah." Seleukos grinned, tipping his head to the side, skull shifting minutely. "Boundless satyr energy is good for more than just fucking, I guess." He shifted closer. "And, speaking of--" His sheath pressed against Tanner's stomach, nub of his cockhead already oozing pre.

Tanner just reached over and pinched his sheath over his cock, the next squirt lancing up across his wrist in a thick yellow-clear glob, splattering over Seleukos' stomach. "We're not fucking here, holy shit, you saw the mess."

Seleukos whined, rutting against his hand -- and yeah, his cock steaming hot, solidly hard under the sloppy padding of his sheath... it was hot. But the mess.

"How about we go back to your room, and then--" Tanner looked at Seleukos' packed sheath, swell of his hardening-but-trapped making a fat bulge under his sheath, shifting and swelling as he got harder. "You think satyr magic would let you fuck me with that thing without killing me?"

"Man, this I do know:" Seleukos said, lips dragging over Tanner's jaw. "Saytrs can do basically anything they want with their dick. Before this happened I jerked off so much thinking of fucking you. Both of me."

Tanner whined, squirming -- just smearing himself in more rank pre, shining across his skin, his own cock skewing up against his crusted boxers. "Okay, plan: get back to your dorm, then you can do whatever you want, unless you found a fucking magical satyr-jizz cleanup spell."

"Actually--" Seleukos started, and Tanner whacked him with a pillow. "Oh, fuck off!"

Well, Tanner thought, wrestling as Seleukos just bodily flipped him over, at least he'd have some time to work out the whole magic thing. And he had a boyfriend to do it with. One-and-a-half boyfriends, really. All-in-all, generally an improvement.