Encounter
Gelaga's heavy, calloused hand crashed into his eldest son's face, knocking the young warrior to the ground. The lord of Rumput was in another drunken rage.
"I'll have no more of it! It's time you learned to shoulder your responsibilities, brat."
Merica snarled through the blood trickling from his split lip.
"Become like you? I will not!"
"You will. Or you will be cast out."
"Have a care, old man. I'm not a child any longer…"
"Get out of my sight! And stay out until you learn some respect!"
The heir to the island of Rumput slouched through the backstreets of the capital, head lowered, scowl fierce enough to put off those hardy few who might have mistakenly thought him easy prey…
Merica knew what was said of his father - that he was a tyrant, a despot, who cared only for power. That the people over whom he ruled hated him, wished him dead. That even the lords under him feared and despised him.
Merica feared and despised him too.
Gelaga had always been harsh, ruthless, but it had become worse since his mate died. There'd been little love between them - lust, yes, but nothing gentler - but Mempelam had been the only one strong enough to keep him under a measure of control. Since she'd been gone…
Merica hadn't loved his mother - he had only the haziest idea what the emotion felt like, having been raised on fear and his parents' ambition for their brats to be 'worthy' of ruling after they'd gone - but he had respected her, admired her. In his own way he missed her.
Well, it looked like he was banned from the castle, for tonight at least. Or until his father's irrational anger had calmed a little. Merica ducked into the sleaziest place he could find, one of the island's low-class sex clubs. Not one of the most well-known, either. Well, maybe he could kill a few hours here. At least the ale was reasonable…
The teasers were poor quality fare, though snapped up fast enough by the males who'd come here to buy some 'entertainment' for the night. Merica even recognised some of the buyers: Elites and first class who were known to have… unusual tastes in sexual matters. The lordling yawned his way through several mediocre performances, and was seriously considering leaving, when the atmosphere suddenly became a little more - anticipatory. The establishment's owner climbed onto the dais and grinned around the room.
"Yes, it's that time again. Here he is, the one you've all been waiting for…."
Pitiful introduction. Merica growled to himself - then froze.
The figure that loped onto the small stage was…
He stared, forgetting to breathe.
Slight, slim, skin a soft golden hue, the teaser wore nothing but a black loincloth so brief that curls of red-gold hair escaped it, gleaming vividly against the soft leather. Long, incredibly graceful fingers on narrow hands made patterns in the air, and to start with the teaser kept his head lowered, his beautiful slender red-gold tail swaying erotically behind him. Then he tossed back his long, heavy, red-gold mane…
… how the fuck did such a beauty end up in a pit like this?...
He smiled, and danced, and it was an invitation to have all your dreams come true. And yet…
There was something not quite - right about it. Merica frowned from his place at the back of the room, concentrating - then it clicked.
The teaser's scent. He may have looked like he was offering himself for all to enjoy, but his scent told a different story. There was deep unhappiness there, under the surface warm sensuality. And desperation. And a touch of fear.
His eyes never leaving the lovely face, Merica took a long pull of his ale. The dancer shouldn't be here, in this sleaze-pit. If anything, he should be in one of the high class clubs. Fuck, with his looks and body he shouldn't even need to tease! So why was he here?
There was only one way to find out - put in a bid for him.
What the fuck - why not? He'd never been with anything quite so exotic, anyway.
The fact that the very thought of it tightened his groin and sparked unfamiliar feelings through him was something he didn't want to explore too closely right now…
The teaser was facing away from him, dancing to the Elite warriors at the other side of the room: Merica took the opportunity to move closer to the dais. The dancer turned - and found himself staring straight into Merica's wide dark-golden eyes…
The teaser almost faltered - but recovered himself with consummate grace and continued his dance. Leaving Merica with the overwhelming image of beautiful soft grey-green eyes in an exquisite face - and a scent that suddenly went from nervous to downright terrified.
The lordling shook his head minutely, blinking - what the fuck had that been about? I'm not that frightening, am I? - and downed his ale, holding out his beaker for a refill, finding his eyes returning irresistibly to the lissom form swaying and teasing as the young male danced, sultry, yearning - and terrified.
Merica watched as the dancer's beautiful eyes flickered to him, over and over again as he swayed and enticed and aroused. The scent of fear grew stronger as the dance wound down, the audience murmuring, the pander watching sharply as various offers were made for the beautiful young male…
The final bid was made by a loathsome, corpulent, elderly Saiyan, one that Merica recognised as a sycophant his father barely tolerated, a minor lord with a penchant for casual torture. The teaser bowed his head, shoulders slumping, accepting the inevitable as the pander declared the deal done, declared him the property of Sengkuang for the night… And, to Merica's amazement, the young male's scent changed to one of relief!
Incensed and intensely curious, Merica did something he'd never even dreamed of before. Rising slowly to his feet, he glared at the teaser's patron - and declared the deal annulled.
The proprietor stared, open mouthed, then bowed deeply.
"My lord, I didn't…. didn't recognise you… My establishment is honoured, of course…"
The patron ushered Merica and the teaser through to what he said was the best room in the club, and courteously asked whether the young lord would require it for the whole night. Glancing at his companion's frightened eyes, Merica agreed that indeed he would, whereupon the patron increased the fee substantially. The lordling gestured negligently to the teaser.
"And how much of that will he get?"
"The usual, my lord. The fees are split eighty-twenty here."
"With him getting the twenty, of course."
"Of course, my lord. But if he pleases you and you wish to give him something extra, he will be allowed to keep it. We're honest folk here."
I'll believe that when I see it… thought Merica to himself, nodding.
"Very well. Wake me two hours after second sunsrise."
The club owner bowed and retreated from the room…
Merica gazed around. The room was grimy and minimally furnished - a large, if somewhat lumpy bed, mirrored walls, a rack of shelves supplied with various lubricants (including, Merica noted distantly, one that would burn and blister when applied internally), shackles, whips…
The teaser stood close to the wall, arms crossed over his chest and gripping his shoulders, trembling. Merica frowned.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
The dancer nodded, smiling a patently false smile. Merica growled.
"I'm really not going to hurt you! Come here!"
Fear blatantly obvious in his scent, the teaser reluctantly moved towards his master for the night, gazing up at Merica from those extraordinarily beautiful eyes…
And Merica was lost.
Unable, unwilling, to resist, he pulled the slight body to him, gently kissing the smooth golden skin, holding the trembling teaser close.
*What's your name, beautiful one?*
The body in his arms shuddered.
*Jagung, my lord…*
Merica pulled back a little.
"You're afraid of me."
The teaser shook his head, panicking.
"N… no my lord! I…."
Merica smiled and stroked a wayward dark-red lock of hair back from the smooth, wide-eyed, lovely face.
*Please, don't be afraid of me. I will never hurt you.*
Jagung bowed his head submissively, and Merica sighed. He'd just have to prove it by his actions…
Jagung laboured over the strong, dark-golden body, tail and hands and lips and tongue skilfully working Merica closer and closer to fulfilment. Finally - with Merica's shuddering gasps evidence of how close he was - Jagung knelt between the lordling's thighs, slender hands wrapped firmly around his erection.
"How… how do you want to take me, my lord?"
Merica gazed up at the beautiful face looking down at him - and realised, suddenly, as though hit by a shaft of sunsshine through a stormcloud, that there was no way he could ever let Jagung go.
He smiled, strong hands reaching for the dancer's limp shaft.
"I want you to lie down…"
Hesitantly, Jagung obeyed, every muscle tight, terrified of what was to come…
Merica straddled his waist and leaned forward, capturing the dancer's soft, mobile mouth in a gentle kiss, settling back a little and tracing the contours of the lovely, frightened face with careful fingers.
*Believe me - I will never hurt you. I could never hurt you…*
Jagung swallowed the sob that had been rising in his throat, and Merica smiled, sadly, realising it could take quite a while before the beautiful fey creature would be able to believe him… He pressed a kiss to the smooth neck, feeling the pulse hard and fast, then slowly began to kiss and lick his way down the slender body, lavishing attention on the dusky nipples, discovering a tiny spot at the bottom of his breastbone that made him gasp and arch upwards, nipping at the jutting hipbones - and finally nuzzling his groin, breathing deeply of the dancer's scent of moss and thornblossom. Very gently, very slowly, he began to lick, twining his tongue around the dark golden shaft as Jagung - ineffectually - tried to stop him…
Merica never forgot that first taste of his soon-to-be-mate. Bewildered and frightened, it took Jagung a long time to come, but his scent when he did…!
Intoxicating. Merica sighed and licked the dancer clean, finally moving up to rest on one elbow, gazing down into the beautiful - terrified - face. He frowned.
"What's the matter?"
Jagung bit his lip and pulled himself to his knees, bowing his head.
"I put my own pleasure before yours, my lord. I must be punished.
Merica stared for a moment, then laughed, harshly - stopping as he saw Jagung cower. The lordling sighed, pulling the dancer down into his arms.
*I would like to fuck you. Would you object?*
Jagung stared, aghast.
*It's not my place to object!…*
Sighing again, Merica gently pushed the dancer onto his back and slowly - oh, so very slowly - caressed him until he was writhing, whimpering, desperate for climax. And then Merica took him, pressing gently into the willing, welcoming body below him as Jagung cried out, back arching against the bed as he throbbed and pulsed in time with Merica's own orgasm…
Merica woke to find his arms empty, and bolted upright with a snarl. Jagung, who'd been asleep on the floor cushion under the window, jerked awake with a whimper, backing into the rough wall-covering. Merica stared at him, then scowled, growling.
"What the fuck are you doing over there?!" He flung back the bedcover. "I want my mate to share my bed."
Too scared to disobey, Jagung crept into the warm bed, trying to tell himself that Merica's rich, smoky scent was nothing special, that he couldn't have distinguished it from a hundred thousand others…
Then he froze.
Mate?
Merica had said mate.
Trembling, Jagung risked a glance up into the lordling's face, and was trapped by a pair of intense, glowing, deeply-golden eyes.
"M… my lord?"
"My name's Merica. Use it. Please."
Jagung shook his head.
"I can't, my lord. And I can't be your mate."
"Why the fuck not?"
Jagung slid from the bed and dropped to his knees, head lowered. What he was about to do would probably get him severely punished, but the lordling had treated him gently, had been so kind… He deserved the truth.
"Do you know who I am, my lord?"
"The person I want to be my mate."
"My lord… D… do you remember a second class warrior called Timun?"
Merica frowned. The name did sound vaguely familiar. Jagung swallowed hard.
"He was my father."
The lordling closed his eyes, thinking hard. Then it came to him.
"Gelaga accused him of treason. Cut off his tail and exiled him… He's your father?!"
Jagung's eyes closed.
"He was my father. He did not wish to live as a tailless Saiyan. He killed himself."
Merica kept his expression impassive.
"And your mother?"
"Died giving birth to my sister."
"Relatives?"
Jagung's eyes narrowed, scent suddenly growing angry.
"What family would be willing to take in the destitute and dishonoured children of a tailless, traitorous suicide?"
Merica absently stroked Jagung's hair back from his face.
"So you became a teaser."
"What other options were open to me?"
Merica nodded. That explained why he was here, as well - no better class club would hazard taking on such a potential risk. Given how irrational Gelaga could be, that would be tantamount to suicide: the lord visited clubs himself and Jagung would most definitely have caught his eye.
"Your sister?"
Jagung's eyes closed, his expression desolate.
"I found Cendawan a post on Pankuzu, as servant to Lord Kurumi."
"He treats her badly?"
The teaser shook his head.
"Apparently he's quite kindly. Hasn't even tried to talk her into sharing his bed, let alone fucking him. But I haven't seen her for two years."
Merica pulled the shivering male back into the bed. Jagung froze, staring at him.
"Wh… what... are you doing?"
"You're cold. I'm warming you up."
"But…"
The lordling silenced him with a kiss, pulling the slender body closely to him.
"What our fathers have done has nothing to do with us."
Jagung bit back an ironic laugh.
"Don't be naïve! Gelaga will kill me for sleeping with you."
Merica stared, eyes wide - then frowned.
"Do that again."
"Do what?"
"Drop the ki-suppression."
The teaser's eyes widened, dismayed. Merica gripped his shoulders.
"Do it. Please."
Slumping, Jagung did as instructed. The young lord chuckled.
"You're low Elite, aren't you?"
The teaser nodded.
"But what good does it do me?"
"It means I can claim you without disgrace to either of us."
Jagung paled.
"WHAT?"
Merica smirked.
"You don't think I'm going to let you get away, do you?"
The teaser pulled himself up, straddling the lordling's waist, hands on the strong broad shoulders, his face very serious.
"Merica, we met for the first time last night. You're the next ruler of this island, I'm a teaser from a disgraced family. For the last year I've sold myself at least once a night, every night. You don't want me as a mate. Believe me, you don't."
"Why? Are there any other little secrets you want to tell me?"
Jagung shoved a graceful hand through his hair, almost despairingly.
"What if I don't want to be your mate?"
Merica smirked and pulled the teaser down on top of him, shifting his hips, weeping erection hot and hard against the slighter male's groin.
"You know, you smell wonderful when you're not terrified. Soft and green, like growing things."
Jagung slapped the lordling's shoulders, frustrated.
"Merica! Will you listen to me?"
"I could listen to you forever. Your voice is like music."
The teaser buried his face in his hands, and Merica sobered, gently stroking his neck.
"Jagung, can't you feel it? You pull me, like… like the suns pulling the plants up from the soil. I want you, and I want you to be mine."
"And if you claim me, and then tire of me?"
"Won't happen."
"It might."
"No fuckin' way."
"But…"
"I need you."
Jagung stared at him for a moment, then the beautiful grey-green eyes filled with tears. Merica smiled, touching the delicate face tenderly, suddenly realising what that strange, protective, shivery feeling actually was.
"Let me love you."
Jagung sobbed, his head falling forwards to rest on the young lord's shoulder. Merica kissed his temple and cradled him closely.
"I'll protect you. I can't offer you much though - you're quite right, my father is not going to be happy."
Jagung sniffled.
"Won't that jeopardise your position? Your future?"
"Uhuh. But I never wanted to rule, anyway."
"What will we do?"
"Well, there's always the Elite Guard."
Jagung raised his head and stared.
"You say that like it's easy."
Merica hugged him.
"Elites aren't that common."
"I can't fight!"
"'Course you can. I'll train you, to start with."
"But…"
The lording kissed his lover, fiercely, then paused.
"Do you want to be with me?"
Jagung pulled back slightly, gazing down, startled. There was uncertainty in those usually-confident dark golden eyes.
Did he want to be with the young lord? To be his mate? Claimed? Step into a future both frightening and strange? What did he feel for Merica?
… warmth… an unexpected tenderness. A… melting… somehow, something soft, gentle, loving in a world in which he'd known so little gentleness, so little love. He ran long fingers through a heavy shaggy mane so dark as to be almost black, feeling a thrill of delight at the thought of belonging to the young lord.
Yes, he wanted to be with Merica. Wanted to love him. He smiled and gently kissed the lordling's eyelids. Merica sighed with relief and held him tightly, trembling.
*… let me claim you, lover…*
Jagung slid onto the bed from atop the young lord's powerful body and rolled onto his back, arms and thighs spread wide in invitation. Urgently, now, Merica settled himself between the dancer's legs and entered him sharply - kissing an apology as the slighter male winced - then (shaking with the effort to go slow, to not hurt his mate) thrusting steadily, angling his hips to give them both as much pleasure as possible… Jagung gasped quietly and wrapped his arms around the broad warm back, then tilted his head, baring the right side of his neck to Merica's teeth…
He relaxed as the young lord kissed the sensitive skin at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, laving it with his tongue, gradually increasing his thrusts as Jagung wrapped his legs around the warrior's waist, his tail twitching against Merica's neck under the heavy dark mane. Shivering, the lordling wrapped his own tail around them both, hips bucking faster and more powerfully as he bit down sharply, claiming Jagung as his own even as the dancer screamed and came, shuddering against his mate's strong body as the warrior reached his own climax, fuelled by passion and blood.
Much later Merica pulled his drowsing, sated mate a little nearer, fluttering gentle kisses over a face that was already dearer to him than anything he had known. Jagung nestled closer, smiling dreamily, shifting slightly as the warrior carefully lapped at the healing wound on his slender neck.
*Happy?*
Jagung sighed and stroked long fingers languidly through his mate's heavy mane.
*You need to ask?*
*No - but sometimes it's nice to hear it.*
Jagung languidly opened his eyes, blinking tiredly, gazing at Merica with dawning adoration.
*Yes.*
Trembling with joy, Merica managed not to hurt his mate as he wrapped his body tightly around the dancer. Nuzzling the fragrant red-gold mane, he blinked back tears.
*I will never let you go…*
© 2002 May 12th Joules Taylor
