Foundling
Mnrmh glittered in the centre of the viewscreen, a vast shimmering ball of blue-white ice. His instructions were quite clear - he was to dock with the orbiting station and a native shuttle would be sent to collect him.
Suspicious, he'd asked why. The squat, hairy being on the other end of the commscreen chuckled.
"Because Ebindar Grymm wishes for you to partake of his hospitality for a few days. And because if you land, you'll never be able to take off again. The temperature down here will damage the material of your ship, and it'll rupture if you even breathe on it."
Which seemed a good reason to do as suggested. And after all, Tlillit'cha trusted them...
Once docked, Zaabon pulled on several layers of thin, warm clothing, topping the whole lot off with a thick, heavy full-bodysuit of the palest blue fur, heavy boots, a fur hood that covered most of his face and a double pair of fur mittens. Picking up a small holdall of extra clothes and personal items, and Tlillit'cha's parcel, with some difficulty - his outfit might be warm, but it didn't make for easy movement - he headed to the transit chamber to await the shuttle.
It was very cold and surprisingly busy: Zaabon had somehow thought that the planet would be pretty much shunned by most sensible sentients, but the station was bustling. Glad he'd opted for a relaxed trip (it had given him time to learn the basics of the standard interplanetary language for this part of the galaxy) he tried to listen to the conversations around him.
"... business concluded. 17,000 hlirips of refined goblop, 59 of sssssssk, and 2 brurps of fluginaglinitiloms. All top quality..."
"... be late. I know, can't be helped..."
"... and he had three! Can you imagine? So I said, how do you expect to fit all those in my..."
"Zaabon!"
Startled, he glanced around to see where the bellow had come from. A huge, fur-clad figure was waving four of its six arms in his direction.
"Over here, friend of artists!"
Squeezing his way through the crowd, giving the owners of the occasional groping hand the benefit of the doubt and ignoring them, he finally reached the bulky form, and gazed up into a fur-covered face. Three large, pale green, double-pupilled eyes twinkled as the being leaned down and wrapped all six arms around him in a rib-bruising hug.
"I'm Grymm. I'm delighted to meet you. Come, let's get out of this crowd - I have a private shuttle waiting."
Grymm turned and marched ponderously along a corridor, the crowd parting uncomplainingly before him as Zaabon followed in his wake, feeling a little like a leaf in a slipstream. A very few minutes later Grymm ushered him into a small but comfortable shuttle and barked an order to the slightly smaller being sitting at the alarmingly-complex controls. As they pulled away from the station, Grymm peeled off the mittens on his uppermost pair of arms to reveal huge, seven-fingered hands, each finger with five joints and heavily armoured talons.
"May I have it?"
Zaabon, who had pulled down his hood and was staring at Grymm's hands in disbelief (just one of these could easily have encircled his waist), glanced up at their owner: Grymm was watching him expectantly. Zaabon inclined his head enquiringly.
"The parcel." Grymm elucidated. "May I have it?"
Zaabon handed the little package to Grymm, who held it as gently as though it might shatter at a breath. Zaabon frowned slightly.
"I hope it's not broken. Tlillit'cha didn't tell me it was fragile..."
"Oh, it isn't. It's just something I've been waiting for for a long, long time."
His curiosity piqued, Zaabon waited for the other to open the parcel, but instead he sighed happily and slid it carefully into an inner pouch of the heavy fur oversuit he was wearing. Then, reaching into a compartment in the side of his seat, he pulled out two canisters, popped the tabs on the top, and handed one to Zaabon, taking a long draught from the other and smacking his fleshy lips together with a satisfied grunt.
Zaabon sniffed at the canister. It felt slightly warm to the skin of his face, and the smell was sharply pleasant, if unfamiliar. He took a sip...
... only to fall forwards, choking and gasping for breath as the liquid burned a trail of fire down his throat. Grymm laughed and slapped him on the back, nearly sending him flying.
"You'll get used to it. Try another swig."
The second mouthful wasn't so bad, though he rather suspected that that was because the first had completely numbed his entire alimentary system. It was certainly warming, he mused, as a glow of heat infused his body. Then he realised he was feeling light-headed, almost dizzy, and reluctantly put the canister down. He'd prefer not to be reeling drunk when he set foot on the ice world...
Luckily the effects of the drink, whose name was, apparently, simply 'Fire' in the local dialect, did not last too long, and he was feeling perfectly sober again by the time the shuttle floated down into a subterranean docking chamber. As the overhead hatch closed and the chamber was flooded with oxygen, a group of three beings, similar to Grymm but a little smaller, stepped through an airlock at the entrance to a side tunnel to greet the passengers. Grymm gestured to the tallest of them.
"My mate, Greyy." Greyy inclined - her? its? it was difficult to tell and he'd been unable to find much information about the natives of Mnrmh in the ship's database - head and beckoned Zaabon to follow. The airlock closed silently behind them, and as they travelled further down the tunnel, and deeper into the dwelling, the temperature gradually rose, until Zaabon felt he'd suffocate if he didn't get this fur oversuit off right now...
But just before he dropped from heat exhaustion, the party arrived at a large door, and Grymm stepped forward to usher Zaabon through, announcing proudly:
"My home. Be welcomed Zaabon. Bring delight with you and leave with happy memories."
Once inside and the door closed, Zaabon followed the example of the natives, who were stripping off their heavy outer furs to reveal finer, much thinner and really quite skimpy garments underneath. But even with his furs off, Zaabon still felt stiflingly hot, and was grateful for the lighter bodysuits in his holdall. Now if someone would just show him to his room...
"Come, my friend. Let me show you to your room."
Heh. Are they telepathic or was that just good timing..?
Grymm led Zaabon along a long corridor to a spacious, positively sumptuous room carpeted with thick, deep fur. A fire burned in a hearth in one wall: against another was the largest bed Zaabon had ever seen, obviously designed for the natives, piled with yet more fur. Grymm watched him, slightly anxiously, as he gazed around the chamber.
"Is it to your liking? We didn't know your tastes, so weren't able to properly prepare..."
Zaabon turned to him, touched by the unfamiliar sentiment. When was the last time anyone had bothered to see to his comfort - Tlillit'cha excepted, of course?
"It is perfect, Grymm."
The big alien relaxed and grinned.
"That is good. Now, if you would like to make yourself comfortable, I'll send someone in a little while to conduct you to the family rooms. It's nearly time for the midday meal."
Zaabon nodded. "Thank you - I'd appreciate that."
He stood under the spray, simply relishing the sheer joy of unlimited hot water - not to mention luxurious quarters and a host who seemed determined to do everything possible to please him. The long, desperate years with Furiizaa were beginning to feel far away and almost unreal...
He caught himself. Never think that. Never tempt fate.
It was difficult, though, he thought to himself as he slid into the outfit Tlillit'cha had first provided for him (this time adding matching blue thigh-length boots: he somehow didn't think the floors of the dwelling would be conducive to barefoot rambling). First Tlillit'cha, now Grymm - he just wasn't used to kindness, consideration, and the company of people who had no interest in killing. It was a revelation to him. And it frightened him...
A knock at the door startled him from his musings. Another courtesy he wasn't used to. He glanced over his shoulder, calling, "Enter."
"Honoured guest, the meal... is..." The young native's voice faltered into silence as he stared at the family's houseguest. All three eyes were huge, and he swallowed hard, finding it difficult to speak. Zaabon smiled.
"The meal is ready?"
The large, hairy head nodded.
"Then please, show me where we eat!"
The youngster kept sneaking sideways glances at Zaabon as the alien loped gracefully beside him: Zaabon didn't know whether to be amused or alarmed. Then they entered the huge dining area - and he stopped suddenly, biting back a gasp.
Before the fire, in conversation with Grymm...
A pure white froth of hair tumbling to the waist...
For a moment Zaabon nearly panicked, thinking it was Chiizu.
Then he took a deep, shuddering breath. No. That - far, far distant, he reminded himself - member of the Gyunyu Force was small, no taller than Vejiita, and about as powerfully built, while this... this was...
Slender to the point of thinness, and just tall enough to fit neatly under his chin. Delicate frame closely encased in gleaming black. As Grymm waved expansively and called out a greeting, the creature glanced over its shoulder, and Zaabon caught his breath. Crimson eyes, white skin...
He swallowed hard. Don't be stupid! Furiizaa never looked like this!
The skin was the palest shade of old ivory, and the long, heavily lashed eyes were rich gems in the most beautiful face Zaabon had ever seen. He walked slowly forward, his attention riveted. The other turned to face him, watching his approach, cool, self-possessed.
Zaabon stopped a pace away, finally managing to wrench his attention, briefly, to his host. Grymm was grinning proudly.
"Zaabon, this is Benten, ward of my house. Benten, this is Zaabon, traveller and friend."
Benten inclined his head gracefully, eyes closing for a moment as his long thick fringe brushed across delicately arched eyebrows. He extended one hand, the long, slender fingers tipped with long, red-painted nails: Zaabon held it lightly, unthinkingly running his thumb gently over the smooth skin of the back.
"I am pleased to meet you, Zaabon."
The rough purr of his voice hit Zaabon low in the groin, and he fought to answer without his own voice shaking.
"Benten. The pleasure is mine."
"Time to eat!" announced Grymm, cheerfully, oblivious to the tension of the moment.
It was a leisurely, luxurious meal, although Zaabon couldn't have said, afterwards, what he'd eaten. He'd tried very hard not to make it obvious, but his attention had been fixed on the beautiful, graceful being three seats and the width of the table to his left...
Benten, on the other hand, had mostly ignored him, conversing with the family members around and opposite him, and only very occasionally, fleetingly, in passing, had his eyes met Zaabon's.
And Greyy had watched them both, trying to hide a gentle, compassionate smile.
Zaabon lay on his back on the bed, naked, his arms behind his head. As soon as the meal had ended he'd pleaded fatigue and escaped to his chamber, unable to cope with being in the same room as Benten. Frightened by what he was feeling. Wanting to touch Benten, hold him. Wanting that voice directed at himself, only himself. Wanting to watch the emotions that played so subtly across the exquisite face, the astonishing depths in the jewel eyes...
Groaning, Zaabon curled around himself, aroused for the first time in longer than he cared to remember.
"You are mine. You belong to me. And I will do with you exactly as I want, and you will do as I say. It pains me to have to remind you of this."
He knelt before his master, Furiizaa's black claws drawing blood where the Ice Lord gripped his chin, forcing his face upwards.
"Do you understand me, Zaabon?"
"Yes, Master Furiizaa."
"Good." The changeling released his grip, and Zaabon sagged - only to bite back a cry of pain as Furiizaa's heavy tail whipped across his naked shoulders, sending him sprawling to the cold metal floor. Gasping, blood trickling hotly down his back, he gazed up at the Ice Lord in despair. Furiizaa smiled coldly.
"I told you to entertain Lord Kani. He tells me you failed to do so. Why?"
"S... sir... he wanted me to... to..."
"To fuck him. Yes, I know. Why didn't you?"
Zaabon stared in anguish at the being above him.
"I'm waiting, Zaabon."
"B... because I can't!" He choked back a sob.
"Don't be ridiculous. Of course you can. You're not a eunuch - though that can be arranged, if you fail in your duties again. You will return to his quarters immediately." The changeling turned away.
"M... Master Furiizaa!" Zaabon dragged himself to his knees, shivering in the cold air. The changeling swung back to him, annoyed.
"What is it?"
"Sir, I can't. I just... I can't..."
He wrapped his arms around himself, shaking. Unable to explain that years of continual abuse had left him with such a loathing of any kind of sex he could no longer force his body to respond - even if, as now, his life depended on it.
Furiizaa frowned, wiping at the tears on his beautiful slave's face.
"Hmm." He gazed down for long moments, then pulled his hand away.
"Report to medical, have them run a full scan. If you're telling the truth, I'll have to rearrange your schedule accordingly. If you're lying - you're dead. After I've finished with you, of course. Go. Now."
And Zaabon, naked, cold and terrified, had been forced to walk from Furiizaa's quarters to the medical bay, trying to ignore the clutching hands, the crude, cruel comments...He bit his lip, wiping at the tears that dampened his face, one hand gently cupping his groin then pulling quickly away, shaking. He rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillows, feeling his erection pressed against the fur of the bedcover, uncertain of what to do. Remembering how any action on his part had been punished, instantly, brutally, until the very thought of touching himself, comforting himself, made him feel desperately ill.
But even the memories couldn't drown the... attraction? Surely it wasn't just lust, it hurt too much for that... he felt for Grymm's ward.
And so he lay, sleepless and aching, until young Flyall came to collect him for the morning meal."You are tired, Zaabon. Was your sleep not comfortable?"
Utterly relieved, utterly distraught, Zaabon had noted Benten's absence from the dining chamber and promptly lost interest in eating. He listened to Grymm with half an ear, only paying attention when asked about his rest. He forced a smile.
"I'm sorry, my friend. The room is wonderful, the meals are wonderful, your home is wonderful. I'm just - tired."
"Then you should sleep." He gestured to Flyall. "Make sure friend Zaabon has everything he needs. He must sleep. I cannot have a guest in my house suffer so!"Flyall led him back to his room, and stood inside the door, shifting from foot to foot uncertainly.
"Is... is there anything I can fetch for you, honoured guest?"
... Benten. You could bring Benten to me...
He shook his head.
"Thank you, but no. All I need is a good long sleep."
Flyall frowned anxiously. "Are you certain, honoured guest?"
He nodded wearily, and the youngster bowed slightly.
"Then I will leave you to rest. Sleep well, honoured guest."
As he closed the door, Zaabon sank down onto the bed and buried his face in his hands. Great. Alone with his thoughts again. What was he supposed to do now?
Too exhausted and downhearted to think of anything else, he stripped, leaving his clothes where they fell, and crawled into the enormous - lonely - bed.
And was asleep before he knew it, and thus was completely unaware of the door opening, and a slight figure slipping silently into the room, standing by the bed and watching as his breathing evened out, his face relaxed in sleep. Unaware of the delicate, white, long fingered, red-nailed hand that tentatively stroked his silky green hair, the ruby eyes that gazed at him - almost longingly, watching as the firelight played over high cheekbones, glinted on long emerald lashes and finely arched brows - memorising every beautiful feature...Benten hadn't been present at the midday meal either. Zaabon had forced himself to eat, smiling and replying to the questions and chat of the family automatically, not really taking very much in but so used to having to pretend an interest in the words of others - Furiizaa had insisted he at least feign attention to his 'clients' - that it passed unnoticed. At the meal's end Greyy, ignoring her mate's jovial invitations to a game of something called estradjal, had ushered him into a much smaller side chamber and led him to a large, comfortable couch by the ubiquitous fire. A low table nearby held a large ewer of a sweet, spicy, warm beverage, several cups, and a portable console.
"It's a little more peaceful here. You can rest, or, if you so wish, use the console for your edification - it contains the history of our people. Flyall will remain within call, should you require anything."
He smiled up at her.
"Thank you."
She shrugged - a complex gesture with six arms - and gently touched his face. Her eyes were shrewd.
"It seems to me you need a little - space. I will see you later."
He watched her leave the room, closing the door softly behind her - then relaxed back into the cushions and gazed into the fire..."May I join you?"
Jerked out of the half-doze the dancing firelight had induced, for a moment Zaabon panicked, not knowing where he was. Gripping the hand laid lightly on his shoulder, he half-rose, swivelling, ready to defend himself...
...dropping back onto the couch somewhat less than gracefully, snatching his hand away as though burned.
"Benten!... I... I'm sorry..."
Benten smiled, and heat flared once again in Zaabon's groin.
"Please don't worry about it. I shouldn't have startled you - I didn't realise you were asleep. However, since I have woken you - may I join you?"
"Please..." Recovering his composure, he gestured to the couch, settling himself with one leg tucked under him as he watched the young humanoid sit facing him, curling long legs under a sleek, lithe body and resting one arm along the backrest. For a moment the crimson eyes regarded him coolly. Then -
"Where are you from? I've never seen your kind before, either in reality or in the database."
Zaabon sighed. "I'm from a world more than half a galaxy away. One that no longer exists."
"I'm sorry. What happened?"
"It was destroyed - by an enemy."
Benten frowned. "And your people?"
Zaabon shrugged. "Mostly dead." He lowered his head, not wanting Benten to see the pain in his eyes - and caught his breath as a cool hand took his.
"You're hurting."
Zaabon swallowed, then nodded, somehow not prepared to even try to lie to his companion. Delicate fingertips rested under his chin, lightly pushing his face upwards until he looked into wide crimson eyes dark with concern.
"You are hurting very much. Let me help."
"I... I don't know how you can..."
Full lips twitched into a half-smile.
"Yes you do."
Zaabon stared, then closed his eyes with a shudder.
"I can't..."
Fingers stroked his face, coming to rest on his shoulder.
"Maybe later, then."
Golden eyes flashed open. Benten was still gazing at him, head tilted to one side. Feeling as though he were drowning, Zaabon closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. He could almost feel Benten's wary scrutiny.
Grymm's ward sighed.
"I don't know my own people. Grymm tells me I was found in the wreck of a small ship that crashed on the surface of the planet, not far from here. I was a tiny baby in a life-pod, the only survivor."
Zaabon's eyes opened as he listened to the roughly purring voice. Benten was gazing into the fire: Zaabon took the opportunity to drink in the sight of his elegant profile.
"Grymm tells me the ship's records were destroyed in the crash, that no-one knows where the ship came from or where it was headed. The family took me in, raised me, have cared for me all my life."
He glanced sideways at Zaabon, his voice suddenly becoming harsh. "Have kept me captive all my life."
Zaabon's heart sank. He pulled away from the beautiful creature, his own voice bitter.
"And you want me to take you away from all this."
Benten's head jerked up, his eyes wide.
"No!" He paused, head inclined, then sighed. "Well, yes - I would give much to be able to escape. But it's not possible. Grymm guards me well, and I'm not allowed out of the dwelling without a family member. He - treasures me, you see. Literally. I'm the family's living work of art."
Zaabon frowned.
"So what do you want of me?"
Benten gazed up into his face, eyes wide and candid.
"You're beautiful. And I'm so very lonely."
Zaabon stared, then sighed.
"And very honest. But surely you have companionship in the family?" Although he somehow couldn't imagine any being of Benten's beauty and refinement bedding one of their hosts...
Benten shook his head.
"Not possible. The bodies are all wrong..."
Zaabon had no wish to pursue that line of enquiry. He frowned. "So you've never..."
"No."
Zaabon took his hands.
"Benten, I have - more times than I can count, and never willingly. I... I don't know if I can help you."
"Then perhaps we can help each other."
"Benten..."
"I'm not asking for very much, Zaabon. Just to hold you, have you hold me." He twisted his head sharply to one side, brows drawn together - a gesture of frustration and near-despair. "They won't even touch me, they're so afraid of hurting me. I see them touching each other, I hear them at night, and I have nothing!" He choked back a sob and raised their joined hands. "This, this is more contact with another person than I've ever had in my life!"
For a moment Zaabon stared at the beautiful face, the eyes brimming with tears, the lips trembling - then pulled Benten into his arms, cradling the slight body close, one hand buried in the impossibly soft hair as the innocent wept soundlessly against his shoulder, resting his cheek against the top of the head as he rocked gently, comfortingly...Minutes later Benten dragged himself upright, wiping at his face with the back of one graceful hand.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make things more difficult for you. I'll go now. Thank you for being so kind."
He tried to move from Zaabon's arms: Zaabon gently restrained him and raised his face, smiling down into the drowning eyes.
"We're opposites, you and I. Perhaps we can help each other."
Benten shook his head, averting his eyes.
"I don't want to cause you any more pain. I should have had more restraint."
"I'm glad you didn't. Benten, I can't promise you anything - but... Perhaps we can comfort each other."
Benten slowly raised his head, expression wary.
"I don't want you to feel you have to. I didn't mean to try to... coerce you into anything." He sighed. "I didn't mean to be selfish."
Zaabon stroked his face, touched the sensuous lips.
"Will you come to my room after the evening meal?"
The look of quiet joy on Benten's face said more than words ever could...Rather to his surprise, Zaabon found the evening meal much easier to deal with than he'd anticipated - although it seemed to last an inordinately long time... Finally, however, the dishes were cleared away, and Zaabon rose, bowing slightly to his host.
"I thank you for an excellent meal, Ebindar Grymm, delicious and sustaining. However, I am now tired. I trust it will not offend you if I retire?"
Grymm rose hastily, all six hands extended. "Indeed no, guest Zaabon! We will see you on the morrow."
As Zaabon turned towards the door, Benten also stood.
"I am tired, also. I would bid you brindaera..."
Grymm looked decidedly put out. "But Benten-ward, I was hoping for a game of estradjal..."
Greyy interrupted.
"Now Bichnar... If the child is tired, he must rest! You can play estradjal with me tonight." She turned to Benten, eyes twinkling. "Go child. Sleep - well..."Benten caught up with the waiting Zaabon a short way down the deserted corridor, and snaked an arm around the taller male's waist. Zaabon smiled and laid an arm across his shoulder, and together they made their way to Zaabon's chamber.
Once inside, Zaabon frowned at the door. "Is there a lock?"
Benten pressed his palm against the jamb: a quiet snikt indicated that the lock had engaged. Nervously he turned to Zaabon, suddenly trembling.
"Is... is this..."
Zaabon gently pulled him close, kissing his hair, trying to quell his own trepidation.
"We are allowed a little happiness, Benten. All living things are."
Reaching up to wrap long slender arms around powerful blue shoulders, Benten pressed an oddly chaste kiss to his soon-to-be lover's throat. Zaabon chuckled and swept him up into strong arms: Benten gazed up at him, eyes vast and wondering.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes..."
They undressed each other, slowly, in front of the fire - the soft, flickering light brushing Benten's pale skin with gold, intensifying Zaabon's lucent golden eyes, shimmering on ice-white and emerald green hair - each drinking in the sight of the other...
"You are so beautiful..." Benten pulled the clip from the end of Zaabon's plait, teasing his fingers though the thick, heavy strands, then tentatively laid a hand on Zaabon's broad chest, pulling back as a shiver rippled across the smooth blue skin. Zaabon caught the hand and placed it back on his chest, reaching to stroke Benten's side, fingers brushing the ridge of hipbone, palm resting gently on one slender thigh as the other hand cupped the pale face.
"And you, little one, are by far the loveliest thing I've ever seen." He smiled down into the pale, wide-eyed face, his eyes flicking to the bed and back.
"Shall we?"
Benten nodded, breathless, and Zaabon lifted and carried him across the room, carefully lying him down on the deep soft pelt and kneeling beside him. Strong hands caressing him, following the contours of rib and hip, stroking leanly muscled thigh and chest, fingertips grazing pale-honey coloured nipples and brushing lightly against the thick white fur at his groin, teasingly, careful not to touch the slender pale shaft that trembled in its nest of soft hair.
Benten whimpered, and reached for Zaabon - who lowered his mouth to his lover's neck, pressing soft kisses along a prominent collarbone, nipping and suckling at each nipple in turn then licking down the lean stomach and blowing gently on the head of the erection. Benten's hips jerked as his hands tangled in Zaabon's hair.
And Zaabon pulled back slightly, just for a moment, wonderingly, disbelievingly. Realising that for the first time ever he wanted to do this. Wanted to give pleasure to the beautiful being beneath him. Wanted to take that tender, quivering organ into his mouth, caress it with his tongue, taste and feel Benten's climax. Sighing contentedly, he shifted to lie between his lover's legs, wrapped his arms around the lean hips, and drew the velvety shaft deeply into his throat.Not surprisingly, Benten came within moments, biting back a cry, back arching, hips bucking upwards, hands clenched tightly in silky green hair. Zaabon held him firmly, riding out the tumult, swallowing lazily, delicately licking the last of the spicy-salt cream from the slackening organ - then kissing it softly before moving back up the bed to take the tearful, trembling Benten in his arms.
"....Z... Zaa...bon..."
He chuckled.
"You enjoyed?"
Benten nodded frantically, sobbing and laughing at the same time.
"I... I had... no idea..."
Zaabon sighed and hugged him close.
"Time to sleep, little one."
Benten sighed and nestled closer - then stiffened and pulled back.
"But... You..."
Zaabon stroked his face.
"Doesn't matter. Let's get some sleep."
Benten hauled himself onto his knees, scowling.
"It does matter!"
Zaabon gazed up at him.
"Do you have the faintest idea what to do?"
Benten bit his lip - then smirked, eyelids lowered seductively as he ran his gaze along his lover's body.
"I do now - after that first lesson!"
Before Zaabon could react, Benten's lips settled on his throat, small teeth nipping very gently, hot tongue laving cool blue skin, mouth and fingers exploring every inch of the powerful body beneath him... Zaabon moaned as the sensitive, naturally talented mouth moved lower and lower and he felt himself growing erect.
He thought, vaguely, before Benten reduced him to a quivering wreck, that the young one had no doubt spent lonely years learning what gave his own body pleasure, and was now putting it all into practice... He fisted his hands in the fur cover and lay as still as he could, distantly aware that he could badly injure his lover if he didn't retain some measure of control...
As the full firm lips engulfed him he screamed, thrusting upwards mindlessly, and came, pulsing and shuddering uncontrollably, sobbing as he collapsed back onto the bed..."Z... Zaabon...?"
His body was liquescent, heavy: it was too much effort to open his eyes...
"Mmmm?"
Slender hands on his shoulders, shaking him.
"Zaabon! Please... you're frightening me!"
He forced his eyes open to look up into Benten's panicked face.
"Benten?"
His lover's head slumped forwards as he sighed with relief.
"Gods, Zaabon - I thought I'd hurt you!"
"Hurt..? Oh no, little one! Anything but!" He hauled himself wearily upright and pulled Benten into his arms, collapsing back onto the bed with his lover cradled against his chest.
"You... you're all right?"
Zaabon opened one eye, peering at Benten's still anxious face.
"I'm better than I've been in a very, very long time." Probably longer than you've been alive, he thought wryly. He brushed Benten's heavy fringe aside and kissed his forehead.
"Thank you."
For reassuring me that I'm not dead inside. For waking parts of me I thought were lost forever. For proving I can live again. For... the sheer joy of being with you.
Benten sighed - then stretched up to kiss, awkwardly at first but gaining confidence as his tongue sought entrance to Zaabon's mouth, stroking, tasting...
He pulled back a little and smiled impishly.
"You taste of fainne."
Zaabon smiled wryly - he'd finished the evening meal with a large mug of the strong, slightly bitter-tasting but satisfyingly hot beverage.
"I'm sorry..."
Benten kissed the corner of his mouth.
"Don't be. It's nice. It suits you."
Chuckling, Zaabon buried a hand in frosty hair and pulled Benten back down, gently invading his mouth...
...and you - you taste of freedom and trust and love...
Benten wriggled against him, nestling closer - and he realised the younger male was erect again. Without breaking the kiss he snaked a hand down, fondling, cupping the delicate balls and shifting slightly so his lover was more comfortably positioned against his thigh. Benten gasped and shivered, gazing into Zaabon's eyes, his own vast.
"Zaabon - you don't have to."
"I want to."
"Then let me..." The pale hand slid down to Zaabon's groin - only to pause as Benten pulled back, biting his lip anxiously. Zaabon sighed, wondering how to explain his lack of response.
"Benten..."
"Are you all right? Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"
"Yes, and yes."
"And... I please you?"
Zaabon smiled and ran gentle fingertips over the beautiful face.
"Very much. It's not you, Benten - I just... I'm older than you. I don't have your stamina."
...please, please just accept that for now. I really don't want to have to explain, have to remember the past, not tonight...
Benten frowned slightly, not entirely convinced, but Zaabon ran his thumb along the younger male's shaft, eliciting a shiver and a gasp as the crimson eyes closed...
"Zaabon?"
"Mmm?"
"How... how long will you stay here?"
How long, indeed. Tlillit'cha's package had been delivered, he had no reason to stay...
Well, that wasn't strictly true. He now had one very good reason to stay.
But he wanted to be on his way. This cold world could never be his, and much as he liked Grymm and his family, he couldn't impose on their hospitality for too long.
And privately, he was concerned that Grymm might consider him, too, a 'living work of art' and object to his leaving...
"I don't know. But not for very long."
"Oh."
He knew Benten wanted to ask more, could almost hear the plea for him to stay. But the young one didn't voice it, refusing to pressure the family's guest. Simply grateful for the time they'd had, the joy he'd known so briefly... He felt Benten's eyelashes brush against his chest as his lover blinked back tears. And that one gentle touch seemed to encapsulate everything he felt for the beautiful creature in his arms.I can't leave you here. He frowned to himself - but it wasn't altogether a selfish thought. It would, quite simply, be the ultimate cruelty to abandon the sensuous, sensitive, lonely little being to creatures who denied him even the pitiful consolation of a simple hug.
He smiled to himself. One way or another, when he left, Benten would be with him...
© October 28th Joules Taylor
Part 3 - Interstice
Note: I simply couldn't resist it. My favourite bishonen and one of my two favourite biseinen, together... bliss...
