Interstice
... space is so lonely...Alone, Zaabon gazed blindly out at the stars, his eyes brimming, chin resting on his folded arms. Miserable. Fighting back pain. It had been such a bitter, pointless fight...
He'd woken slowly to the entirely alien sensation of lips against his throat, kissing gently. For a moment he froze - then sighed and pulled Benten closer.
"Mmmm....."
Teeth nipped lightly at his earlobe.
"Zaabon..."
He'd opened his mouth to respond - only to have Benten silence whatever he'd planned on saying as the younger male's tongue teased his own...
Long minutes later, gazing lazily up at Grymm's ward, smiling gently, he slid his hands down to hold the lean hips, his voice a low murmur.
"You're still here... you are still here... thank you..."
Pale hands rested against his chest as Benten moved to straddle his waist, gazing down at the half-open golden eyes, his expression suddenly somehow nervous, wary. Zaabon frowned.
"What's wrong?"
Benten bit his lip, shaking his head. Zaabon stroked his face.
"Tell me."
"I... Zaabon, you're going to be leaving soon."
"Probably."
"But... I have to stay here..."
"Why?"
Benten stared at him, wide-eyed, then frowned.
"Well, because... Because I owe Ebindar Grymm my life. All the years of my life. I can't repay what he's done for me."
"What about what you've done for him?"
"I haven't done anything for him. Except be decorative and play estradjal with him. And let myself be put on display when he has guests."
"Has he ever asked you to do anything more?"
Slim pale shoulders shrugged. "No."
Zaabon paused for a moment, then slid his hands around Benten's lean waist.
"Would you come with me, if it were possible?"
The crimson eyes were lowered.
"I... I don't know..."
"Why not?"
"I've never known anything else..."
"And you're afraid."
"... yes..." It was a throaty whisper, and Zaabon smiled to himself.
"And if I were to look after you?"
Benten gazed at him, head tilted to one side.
"Could you?"
"Yes."
"Would you want to?"
Zaabon gently gripped the soft white hair and pulled the pale face close to his own, smiling as he whispered.
"Oh yes."
Benten kissed him.
"Then I would come with you."
"Would you want to?"
Benten smiled, suddenly, a hint of tears in his eyes.
"Oh, yes, yes..."
Unwilling to think about how the escape was to be accomplished, not right now, not with the beautiful creature sitting on his groin, Zaabon ran his hands down the pale chest and settled them over the delicate, stirring genitals, teasing as Benten moaned. Strong, skilled blue hands stroked and kneaded, relishing the silky heat, delighting in the pale rosy blush that gently flushed the face and chest - and shaft - above him as Benten grew more aroused, eyes closed and lips parted, shifting against his lover's hips and finally flinging back his head, back arched, as he came in Zaabon's hands.
Gasping, Benten slumped forwards bonelessly, stretching out along the powerful blue body: Zaabon cupped his buttocks, holding him close and kissing his eyelids. Benten sighed and half-opened his eyes, gazing upwards, his voice a purring sigh.
"... Zaabon... Oh, you have no idea how wonderful it is - to have someone to hold, to..."
He jerked half upright, his eyes wide and frightened, at the knock on the door. Zaabon held him firm as Flyall's muffled voice reached them from outside.
"Honoured guest? The morning meal is almost ready..."
"Thank you, Flyall. I will join you shortly."
"Should I wait, and guide you?"
"No. I know the way."
"Very well, honoured guest."
Benten was trembling.
"I should leave."
"Why?"
"Well... I shouldn't really be here..."
"Why not?"
Startled crimson eyes stared into bright gold as Benten considered this. It was obviously a completely novel thought.
"Well..." He frowned. "I just..."
Zaabon caught Benten's lower lip between his teeth, nipping very gently, then kissed his brow.
"They are not your family. They don't own you. You're old enough to decide your own fate." He frowned momentarily. "You are old enough, aren't you?"
Benten nodded abstractedly. "They consider their own children old enough to take control of their lives at the age of ten local years. I'm twice that."
... Well, you're certainly no child, not according to every standard I know...
Zaabon suddenly stilled, shocked, as he realised what Benten had just said. To be starved of any kind of physical contact for twenty years... No wonder the little one was desperate just to be held! He cradled the slender body closer.
"Then we have a lot of catching up to do." He kissed the frosty hair. "Shall we eat first?"
Benten chuckled, and stretched up to nip Zaabon's cheekbone - then wriggled his backside, nose wrinkling in distaste.
"Wet..."
Zaabon squeezed gently, eliciting a gasp.
"What did you expect?" He slid still-sticky hands up the back to the narrow shoulders, leaving a viscous silvery trail behind. "Would you like to shower?"
Benten nodded, soft hair tickling Zaabon's face and chest, and the larger male pulled himself upright, lifting his laughingly protesting lover into his arms and carrying him through to the bathroom...
Zaabon sat over a mug of fainne at the end of the meal, watching, smiling faintly as Benten conversed with his guardian and family with perfect equanimity and relishing the tiny, almost subliminal glances the beautiful creature flashed in his direction.
Greyy noticed them too...
"Guest Zaabon?"
He started, startled by her voice so close to his ear.
"Host Greyy..."
"May we talk?"
He inclined his head, and she smiled, keeping her voice too low to be heard by anyone else.
"I am delighted that you and Benten have... become intimate. It has worried me for some time that the little one has no-one to be with him. But I need to know what you intend to do - because my mate considers him a prize, and will not willingly set him free."
Zaabon frowned.
"This could be a problem, host Greyy."
She nodded sadly. "Then you do wish to take him from us..."
Zaabon turned to her.
"Greyy, I would never take him against his will: he wishes to come with me."
Greyy searched his face for long moments, then sighed.
"I cannot claim to be surprised. You and he - you... fit. His is a fire's spirit, a star's spirit. He should be free, not trapped here, underground, on this cold world. And you - you are his... eshrinza. His - opposite element. His balance. The part of himself he lacks. As he is yours."
Zaabon frowned, suddenly apprehensive and decidedly out of his depth. His knowledge of any kind of philosophy had been restricted to Furiizaa's 'If they're not powerful enough to defend themselves, kill them and take their world' - which was hardly conducive to any kind of satisfactory personal relationship.
Yet...
Benten stirred something within him, something unfamiliar, something that should have been uncomfortable but somehow wasn't. It wasn't lust - his desire to give Benten pleasure was something quite different - and for a being who'd spent most of his life being used as nothing more than a thing to slake others' lusts, whether sexual or for power, that was both a relief and a cause for fear...
He wasn't quite ready, yet, to confide in the little one, but he knew (with an oddly elated sinking feeling) that it wouldn't be long before he was. Benten already trusted him completely, that much was obvious.
He knew he wanted Benten with him. He already felt that they belonged together. What he didn't know - and the uncertainty frightened him - was whether it would last...
"Few things are ever entirely certain, Zaabon. Fewer things yet last forever."
He started. Had Greyy read his mind? She smiled gently.
"I will do what I can to help you - but you should be warned it may come to a fight. Grymm will not let him go easily."
As the door to the suite closed behind them Benten turned to his lover and practically leapt into his arms, smothering his face with kisses.
"What... was... Greyy... saying?"
Zaabon just had time enough to mutter "she approves" before Benten's lips descended on his mouth and for long, blissful minutes he was unable to say anything at all...
Finally, gasping for breath, he pulled back and chuckled, gazing down into the half-closed crimson eyes.
"What would you like to do?"
"I want to make love to you."
Zaabon stilled, his smile faltering.
... no, think... he said 'make love'... not rape, not fuck, not hurt, just 'make love'... stop being stupid, he probably doesn't even know what to do...
"Zaabon?"
He glanced down sharply: Benten was gazing up at him, expression anxious.
"Did I say something wrong?"
Zaabon kissed his forehead.
"No. Shall we go to bed?"
Benten shook his head.
"I'd like to stay in front of the fire. If you don't mind?"
Zaabon didn't mind at all. Firelight brought the most delicious golden glow to his lover's beautiful pale body...
"Where did these scars come from?"
"Mmm?"
When Benten had said make love, he'd meant just that: he'd spent the last hour kissing and caressing his lover, exploring the powerful body gently, undemandingly, content simply to touch and stroke. It had frightened Zaabon to start with, not knowing what was coming next, but now, reassured and completely relaxed, he lay on his stomach on soft black fur before the fire as Benten ran a fingertip along the silvery tracks across his shoulders, kissing them.
"These scars. They look strange. How did you get them?"
Zaabon rolled onto his back and reached to stroke the beautiful pale face.
"They're from a long time ago. Nothing you need to worry about."
Benten gazed down at him.
"I'd like to know."
"Why?"
"Because I want to know everything about you."
"Why?"
"Because I... Because I'm interested."
Zaabon smiled and laid a hand over his lover's groin. Benten closed his eyes with a faint moan, which turned to a gasp as Zaabon pulled him down to lie on the fur then slid down to take the growing erection into his mouth.
"Y... you're... very good... at distracting me..." Benten managed to gasp, before his world dissolved into pure sensation.
Some time later, panting, Benten lay curled around his lover, face to face, head resting on the broad chest. He frowned.
"I won't give up, you know."
"Give up what?"
Benten stroked gentle fingers against a high cheekbone, running his thumb along a fine emerald eyebrow. "Trying to find out all about you!"
Zaabon laid a hand on one long, smooth thigh, fingertips brushing the back as Benten shivered at the touch.
"There's really not that much to tell."
"I don't believe you."
"Truly."
There is no way I'm going to tell an innocent like you what my life has been. I will not be the one to give you nightmares.
Benten slid to lie on top of the powerful body, raising himself on his forearms so he could gaze into Zaabon's face. There was determination in the set of the pointed chin, the narrowed eyes.
"Just as long as you know I mean it."
Zaabon chuckled and ruffled the soft white hair.
"OK."
"Good. Now..." He slid suddenly down to the smooth groin, fingers teasing, exploring the different textures of shaft and balls and thigh and hip - and Zaabon found himself becoming aroused again. Benten tweaked him, mischievously, then began to lick with long, slow, firm strokes. Sighing, Zaabon closed his eyes and simply allowed himself to be pampered...
His climax rolled over him in long, slow waves, leaving him limp, sated and drowsy. He tugged gently on Benten's hair to pull the youngster back up to lie atop him, kissing the full lips tenderly, tasting himself and for once not sickened by it. Benten sighed and licked his lips.
"I like your taste. A little like vrachnine."
His eyes half-closed, Zaabon smiled.
"And what does vrachnine taste like?"
"Hot and sweet and rich."
"I'm glad you approve..."
There was silence for a moment, then Benten raised his head.
"There are more things we can do, aren't there?"
Forcing himself not to tense, Zaabon nodded slowly.
"When we're ready."
"I knew you'd know. You're experienced. Promise you'll teach me?"
Swallowing hard, Zaabon tried to smile.
"When the time is right."
Satisfied, Benten rested his head on the broad blue shoulder, his hand caressing his lover's neck while Zaabon stared sightlessly at the ceiling, stroking absently at the soft white hair.
Could I? Can I? This would be quite different. Loving, gentle... Nothing like Furiizaa...
He shuddered, startling Benten, who immediately sat up and gazed down at him anxiously.
"Zaabon? If you're cold let's go to bed..."
"I'm OK. But bed is a nice idea." He forced a chuckle. "You've worn me out!"
"Then let's sleep for a while."
Zaabon pulled them both upright, and seconds later they were nestled together under the furs. Benten dozed off quickly, leaving Zaabon awake and apprehensive, and not just about Benten's request. Somehow he had to work out a way to persuade Grymm to allow his little prize his freedom...
The crux came much sooner than he'd wanted and before he'd had time to prepare.
They'd spent the day together - Benten had had one of Grymm's sons pilot them across the planet's surface to one of its more attractive topographical features, a huge near-frozen cascade of liquescent gases that tumbled in slow motion down a cliff of ice into a narrow, sluggishly moving stream at the bottom of a deep gorge. The pilot had flown them very close to the cascade - then banked the little vehicle into a vertiginous dive that had Benten laughing with abandon while Zaabon gripped the back of the pilot's seat, ready to grab the controls should he be unable to pull up. It hadn't been one of the most relaxing trips he'd ever taken, but afterwards, on the way back to Grymm's dwelling, Benten had snuggled up to him on the seat, one arm around his waist, the other hand on a muscular thigh - which made up for a lot.
The rest he'd made up for later, back in Zaabon's chambers...
They were very late arriving for the morning meal, both pleasantly weary after their energetic and extremely satisfying night. Grymm was uncharacteristically sombre, however, and Zaabon felt his heart sink.
"Benten child, you did not return to your room last night. Where were you?"
Benten paled and glanced at Zaabon, then swallowed and opened his mouth - but before he could speak Zaabon stepped forward a pace.
"He was with me, host Grymm."
The pale green eyes narrowed, but their gaze remained on Benten.
"Why?"
Benten moved to stand close to his lover, chin raised defiantly.
"Because I wanted to be, Ebindar Grymm."
"What is he to you, child?"
Benten faltered for a second or two, trying to find the right words, then shrugged and said simply:
"The person I want to be with."
Grymm's face was impassive, but there was a murderous glint in his eyes. Zaabon instinctively, unobtrusively, tensed, ready to move if it proved necessary.
"Did he... touch you?"
Benten reddened, then tossed his head.
"Yes. And I touched him. And then we did other things."
Grymm's gaze swung to Zaabon: the big alien was holding himself in check, but just barely.
"This is how you repay my hospitality? By stealing away my treasure?"
Zaabon raised his hands, trying to defuse the situation.
"Host Grymm, Benten came to me, unhappy because none of you have shown him any physical affection. He was lonely." And so was I... "It was never my intention to 'steal' him..."
"Don't lie to me, traitor! I saw the way you looked at him. You wanted him from the first."
Zaabon sighed. It might be true, but it wouldn't help to admit it.
"Host Grymm, I assure you..."
"I do not wish to speak to you. Benten is not and never will be yours."
Benten loped forwards before Zaabon could stop him, face set and eyes afire.
"You will not speak of me as though I am nothing more than your property! I don't belong to you. I have never belonged to you! I choose to be with Zaabon."
"You have no choice!" Grymm thundered, rising from his seat. Greyy rose too, all six hands raised.
"Bichnar, be calm. This is unseemly. And Benten is correct - he does not belong to us."
Grymm swing to glare at his mate, his reply a hissing growl.
"He is mine!"
Benten flung himself forwards, grabbing Grymm's upper arms and hauling himself up to stare into the massive face, his body shaking with fury.
"I am not yours!"
Afraid to move while Benten was in such a horribly vulnerable position, Zaabon held his breath, willing the alien to be reasonable. Grymm stared at his ward for a moment, then his lips stretched in a humourless smile.
"If I cannot have you, no-one will."
As the alien's middle pair of arms rose, the hands wrapping around Benten's slender neck, Zaabon leapt forwards, distantly aware of Greyy's horrified cry...
Benten clawed uselessly at the huge hands, his breath rasping. Zaabon gripped the massive wrists, fingers groping for the pressure points, but in vain - Grymm's arms were immovable, and his flesh might as well have been inorganic, it was so solid. The alien stared down into golden eyes, and began to laugh.
"You can't have him."
The taloned hands began to squeeze: Benten's eyes rolled back as his body jerked spasmodically, fighting for breath - and Zaabon in desperation loosed a tight ki-blast, severing one of the alien's hands above the wrist.
Grymm stared at the stump for several seconds, disbelievingly, long enough for Zaabon to swing up and around and kick him solidly in the face. The huge, hairy head snapped back and his grip on Benten slackened, enough for Zaabon to pull his lover away and toss him to Greyy. But Grymm recovered quickly, shaking his head to clear it and, with an ear-splitting howl, slashing viciously at Zaabon with long, knife-sharp talons.
Zaabon bit back a cry as the claws sliced down his back, cutting deeply into flank and thigh. Landing awkwardly and unable to stand as his leg collapsed under him, he took off - a fraction of a second too late as another set of claws ripped into his shoulder. Pulling himself raggedly up and back, he faced the alien, ignoring his own pain and trying to get past the bloodlust now raging in the slitted eyes.
"Grymm! Listen to me! I don't want to kill you!"
The alien laughed.
"No, you don't. Because if you do, my sons will track you down and make you suffer..."
Zaabon glanced helplessly at Greyy, who nodded, still cradling the wheezing Benten in her arms. He swung his attention back to Grymm...
... who was howling, lunging for him. Whipping himself upwards out of reach, Zaabon watched, horrified, powerless to do anything to prevent it, as the alien's momentum carried him forward - and into Flyall. Unable to stop in time, Grymm's talons ripped through his youngest son's throat...
"I'm so sorry... so very sorry..."
He'd found himself saying the same thing over and over again as Greyy deftly patched up the ugly gaping wounds her mate had inflicted, the unfamiliar distress he felt overshadowing the pain of his injuries. She paused in clamping together the edges of one particularly deep gash in his shoulder and gazed at him.
"Guest Zaabon, it is not your fault. If he had taken heed, it would not have happened."
"But, Flyall..."
She lowered her head.
"My son."
She sighed, then returned her attention to his shoulder.
"It has taught Bichnar - taught all of us - a valuable lesson." One hand very gently cupped Zaabon's face, raising his eyes to hers.
"And I thank you for not killing him. He may not yet have realised his escape, but I have."
"It's bad manners to kill one's host." he replied tonelessly. Unless one intends taking over his world afterwards... he added silently, then shook himself. That he could still think such a thing showed how - unsettling - he'd found the experience...
"Zaabon?" The rough purr distracted him, and he smiled, a little tremulously but nevertheless relieved: Benten's throat was bruised, but otherwise his lover was unharmed. A small pale hand settled tenderly against his face.
"Will you be all right?"
He nodded. "I've had a lot worse in the past..." No tank here to speed the healing, however... "I won't be up to doing very much for a while, though."
Benten kissed his cheek.
"Then I'll have the pleasure of looking after you! And you can teach me how to pilot your ship. You won't need to move very much to do that, will you?"
Zaabon shook his head, despite everything amused - and bemused - at the little alien's astonishing resilience. Benten smiled, his eyes gentle.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"Saving my life."
Zaabon inclined his head gravely.
"You're most welcome."
Benten glowered.
"I mean it!"
"I know. So do I."
For a long moment they gazed into each others' eyes, then Zaabon sighed.
... such tenderness, so many promises... am I worthy?...
... I can be. I must be.
And for once he found himself looking forward to the challenge.
Slender arms encircled his shoulders from behind, careful of the bulky medical dressing swathing the left.
"Zaabon? Are you all right?"
He sighed, and twisted his head to press a kiss to the corner of Benten's mouth.
"Yes. I just wish we could have resolved things a little less - aggressively."
Pale fingers stroked his face.
"It wasn't your fault."
"Wasn't it?"
Benten moved to crouch down in front of him, cupping his face in slender hands.
"No, it wasn't. Zaabon, he treated me like an object, a possession. But one person can't own another. Not unless they want to be owned, anyway. And I didn't want to be owned. He should have listened, should have been able to understand that."
... but they never do, little innocent. Power, ownership, corruption, degradation - it's a drug to them...
At least you weren't hurt...
Zaabon inclined his head.
"And do you want to belong to me?"
Benten gazed at him for a moment, then smiled.
"I'd rather be your equal."
Zaabon blinked, startled, then smiled in return.
"I think I could probably cope with that..."
Benten brushed a gentle kiss across his mouth, then rose to his feet, his hands stretched out to his lover, suddenly businesslike.
"Come with me. I need to replace those dressings."
Zaabon chuckled and allowed Benten to help him up, glancing over his shoulder at the sparkling panorama through the viewport one last time before limping through to the cabin and his lover's gentle, competent care.
Yes, space was lonely.
But for the first time in almost as long as he could remember, Zaabon wasn't. And he knew, from the tender, affectionate, happy expression on his lover's face, that Benten wasn't either.
Part 4 - Drifting...
