Fortress
by Becca Abbott
Part 14
The picture was done. Els looked at it with satisfaction. It wasn't bad, if he did say so himself. He'd even managed to catch that hint of melancholy in Riki's smile.
The mongrel was finishing a shower when Els walked into his cell. He got out at once, carelessly toweling himself dry on his blanket. He came over to the bed and sat down beside Els. Amazed by the picture, his cheeks reddened. "It's really good," he said.
"I think it turned out pretty good, too," Els nodded.
It lay on the mattress between them. Riki touched it gently, unable to look away. "I see what you mean about the hair," he said finally. "I never thought about my hair as being anything but – just – ugly."
Els shrugged, taken aback by the expression on the mongrel's face. Then Riki grinned and the expression was gone. "So – hear anything last night?"
Els shook his head. "No. I – I didn't ask, actually. Sorry. Draco was in a bad mood. He got a call right after dinner and went out. I don't know when he got back. This morning he hardly said a word."
Riki nodded. He looked discouraged. Els said in a small voice, "We don't have to have a lesson today if you don't want."
Startled, the mongrel looked down at the picture. He smiled, the same smile Els had captured on the sheet. "I'd say this was worth a lesson, but I'm not sure what more I can teach you."
Els' throat tightened. He said in as casual a tone as he could manage, "We could do some pairing stuff."
Riki blinked. "I thought you didn't want... I am still a mongrel, you know." His smile had hardened.
"But you aren't like the mongrels I've heard about. You're not dirty or stupid and you're really beautiful! You're almost as beautiful as Draco."
There was a moment's stunned silence. Belatedly, Els realized what he'd just said and his face heated.
"I am?" Riki said finally, half-laughing. "That's some heavy praise."
"Well, um, it's true."
Riki leaned forward until their noses touched. Delicious heat poured through Els. "Pairing stuff, huh?"
"Yeah." Els thought about that son of a bitch, Asher. He looked into the dark eyes so close to his. "I want to do it so my partner can't help but get hard as a rock."
Riki took Els' chin in hand. "All right. But let's see what I have to work with first." He lifted his other hand and brushed his fingers across Els' mouth. "We'll start with this," he said. "Blow me."
Mesmerized, Els nodded. "And I think," Riki went on, leaning even closer, putting his lips against Els' ear, "that this time, if you'll trust me, I'm going to cover your eyes."
Els' pulse quickened. "B-blindfolded?"
"To help the illusion. We don't have to if you're afraid."
Els wasn't afraid. He knew Riki wouldn't hurt him. In fact, if it weren't for Draco... He looked into the mongrel's strong, regular features, those eyes that pulled at his soul, and said, "No. It's a good idea. I'll go get something."
Were all mongrels like Riki? Did they all have such charisma? The prospect of being pleasured by him again was making Els feel light and tingly. It felt – disloyal. He loved Draco!
Riki was crouched beside the steel ring when Els returned with a long, dark green scarf. The mongrel rose and took it from him, smiling reassuringly. Then Els' world went black. He stood perfectly still, heart racing. Riki's hands settled, warm and firm, on his shoulders.
"Pretend I'm Draco," came the mongrel's familiar whisper in his ear. It raised gooseflesh over every inch of him. "Pretend it's Draco you'll be pleasuring."
Els stood, trembling, feeling Riki move around in front of him. The rattle of the chain seemed unusually loud. Gentle fingers slid through his hair and held, tipping his head up. Els imagined Draco, blue eyes half-closed, desire in their depths. His mouth opened under the mongrel's and he yielded at once to the tongue that thrust imperiously in.
"Don't be afraid," whispered Riki a few moments later. "Use every part of your body to caress him. What brings you pleasure pleases a Blondie, too, but ten times as much. They are fierce and passionate lovers. You have to be fierce and passionate, too."
The next kiss was searing. This time, Els met the invading tongue with his own, eagerly. His arms came up around Riki's neck. He imagined that the hands kneading his buttocks were Draco's, that it was Draco who released him at last, who pulled him across the room and pressed him to his knees. Els heard the creak of the bed as Riki sat down on it.
Els was drawn forward. He could smell the mongrel's clean scent and knew he was very close to Riki. He reached out and found Riki's open legs. Boldly, he let his hands stroke up the soft flesh of the mongrel's inner thighs.
If only it was Draco who wove long fingers delicately in his hair, who cupped the back of his head and drew him forward. If only it was Draco's chest to which Els pressed his lips, across which he drew his tongue, tasting the faint tang of salt. He heard Riki's breath harshen. When a rigid nipple came under his tongue, he seized upon it, sucking hard, tormenting it with tiny nips. Would Draco tremble like Riki did? Would he make the same needy sounds?
Riki held him still, then directed him lower. Els opened his mouth, guessing what came next.
Blondies had large genitals, but so did Riki. It made it easy for Els to imagine that it was Draco's cock he sucked so eagerly, Draco's balls he caressed, Draco's private places that he teased with delicate fingertips. If only this were real. He moaned around the heavy organ in his mouth and heard an answering groan from above. If this were real, Draco might pick him up and put him face down on the bed. He might take warm oil and with careful fingers, prepare Els for his width and length. To be mounted, to feel stretched to point of crying out...
"Ahhh!" Riki's cry brought Els' abruptly back to reality. In his mouth, the mongrel's cock jerked in spasms of release. The hot, salty flood of his semen caught Els by surprise and he choked. Then Riki pushed him away, taking off the blindfold. Els blinked rapidly as the mongrel collapsed backwards across his bed.
"Am I really terrible?" asked the pet finally.
The mongrel sat up. Dark hair clung damply to his forehead. He looked dazed. "I think," he said hoarsely, "that Iason had better hurry."
Riki lay on Iason's great bed, bound in steel and black leather, stretched wide for Iason's pleasure. His chest rose and fell in rapid, frightened breaths and his eyelashes, so dark and thick, were spangled with tears. Iason knelt between the wide-spread legs. His fingers traced along the edges of the leather straps that bound Riki's calves to his thighs, that held him open and bewitchingly defenseless. Directly before Iason, the mongrel's cock, large and beautifully formed, awaited his touch. He lay a hand on it.
Riki moaned. Iason caressed his balls, ran his hands up the column of that dark, rigid penis to stroke the velvety head. Pearly fluid leaked from the slit to cover Iason's fingers. Smiling, he leaned forward and pressed the wet digits against the mongrel's mouth. Riki's swollen, bitten lips parted. He licked away his own essence. His breath was warm. Tears made those black eyes as bright as the heavens.
"Iason. Please..."
Iason woke, shaking, his cock in agony. He lay still in the lumpy, narrow bed. The cracks between the window boards were pale gold. Morning again. Another day without Riki. Another day closer to the choice he didn't want to make.
He got out of the sleeping bag and walked across the dusty floor to the stove. In the room's half-light, he relit it. It had been a month since they had taken Riki and he was no closer to getting him back. The unfortunate whore had eased the worst of the discomfort, but it was building again. Iason's hand moved to his penis. A few rapid strokes accompanied by harsh breathing and there was relief, of sorts. He cleaned off his hand and got dressed.
The rumble of engines caught his attention. In the Wasteland, it was a rare sound during the day. Iason moved to the window and peered through a crack. Bikes – six of them – and armed men. Turning, he crossed the room and banged on Katze's door. The former Furniture appeared at once, hair tousled from bed, alarmed.
"Robbers or Raoul," Iason guessed quietly. "Be ready."
Katze nodded and vanished back into his room for his weapon while Iason, his own gun in hand, moved quietly to the door and stood beside it. Sure enough, a few minutes later, he heard the floorboard outside creak. Tensing, he waited for the door to burst inward, but instead, there was a knock.
"Answer it," Iason told Katze.
The eunuch nodded apprehensively and did so. Iason watched his face light up.
"Hello, Katze," came a familiar voice. "Iason around?"
Iason lowered his gun, relief washing through him and leaving him weak. He turned around to face the doorway. A small crowd of armed men waited outside the corridor. Standing in front of them, as handsome and defiant as ever, was Raoul's pet and Riki's former pairing partner, Guy.
Draco looked up from his computer screen to see Simms standing in the doorway, the color of ash. His own heart plunged, knowing it had to be bad. It was.
"It's General Mika, sir, " said the captain. "Sometime last night. Car crash."
Twenty-four hours ago, they'd lost the signal from Mink's locator chip. Now Mika, the perpetrator of this whole pointless plot, was dead.
"We've got to get rid of the prisoner, sir. He'll come here next!"
"These men are Templars, even if they're students," Draco replied. "They took the oath and they've had their basic training. They can start augmenting the daytime security patrols to free up more regular staff for night watch. The enemy cannot approach from the air. Maintain proper vigilance and we should have plenty of warning. In the meantime, I'll send a message to what's left of the Committee requesting reinforcements."
It wasn't much, but it was the best Draco could do. Clearly terrified, the captain withdrew.
If Mika was dead, that meant there was an Acting Chairman. Draco got on his computer, only to find that it was once more temporarily off-line. Damned ripple effect!
Mink was getting closer. The Committee would have to send him reinforcements now. If they didn't, he would have no choice but to go over their heads and straight to Jupiter. Coldly, he set about composing the request.
Riki stared at his picture, then over at Els'. Els grinned back at him and tried to see what he'd drawn, but Riki covered it with his arm.
"Let me see!" the pet demanded.
They were stretched out on blankets on the floor of Riki's cell, sketch sheets and markers strewn around them. The portable heater in the corridor blasted warmth through the force door.
"All right," Riki replied, "but remember – it's my first." Pressing his quivering lips together, Riki held up his drawing.
Els stared. Then, mouth wobbling, "I-it's not bad."
"You are so full of shit," sighed Riki, looking at it again and shaking his head. It was supposed to be Els, and the hair was certainly bright red, but the rest of it... "Hey!"
The boy's face was buried in his arms, his shoulders shaking.
"That's not very nice!" continued Riki, trying to sound offended. "I've never drawn someone's picture before!"
"S-sorry..." Els lifted his head. Blue eyes brimming with hilarity met Riki's. "It's really pretty good for the first time. Honest."
"It looks like crap," Riki admitted. He crumpled it up and tossed it at the pet. Els swatted at it, but he missed and it bounced off his nose. "You're right, though. Drawing is fun, even if I suck at it. You, on the other hand..."
Els blushed as Riki picked up the boy's drawing. It was another sketch of Riki, quite rough, of the mongrel sitting on his bed, knee up. There wasn't much detail, yet somehow Els had caught a sense of energy suppressed.
"What does Draco say about your drawings? Maybe not the pictures of me, but your other stuff?"
"Draco? Nothing. I don't think he's ever noticed them."
"Why not?"
"Why should he care about my stupid stuff? He has real art back on Erba. All he wants is a pet who won't embarrass him."
Riki handed back the picture, suddenly angry. He regarded Els' bright, down-bent head, the slender fingers that gathered up the scattered markers into a neat pile. "What are you talking about?"
"There's an officer who lives downstairs," said Els after a long pause. "The lieutenant has a pet – a real Academy pet. He's – everything that I'm not."
"That's why you wanted me to teach you Academy tricks," said Riki.
A diffident nod. The boy wouldn't look at him. "Lt. Richards lets Asher go wherever he wants. I see him sometimes from the windows, running over to the administration building during the day. Lately, Draco's started coming home really, really late. I know Asher would really like to be a Blondie's pet. I – I wouldn't be surprised if Draco's been thinking about getting one now that we're here on Amoi."
The dejected droop of the boy's shoulders, the listless way he shuffled the pens into their plastic case, made Riki long to reach out and put an arm around him. Somehow, the mongrel kept his hands to himself. This wasn't one of their lessons. He didn't have permission to touch just because he felt like it.
"I can't believe he'd choose one of those superficial twits over you," Riki said finally. "Academy pets are no big deal. Draco's probably got better taste than you think."
"What are you talking about?" Els flashed indignant blue eyes at him. "Academy pets are – are – the best there is!"
"They're spoiled, shallow, back-biting little shits," snapped Riki, remembering the breed all too well.
Els' jaw sagged. Riki recovered quickly. He shrugged. "Iason could have had as many Academy pets as he wanted, but he said he'd rather have one with a brain."
"Oh." Els considered him a moment, then the mischievous sparkle was back. "Couldn't find one, huh?"
"WHAT?" There was no way the brat was getting away with that. Riki pounced, dragging the pet back down to the blanket. Pens went every which way. "Take that back, colony boy!"
Els was laughing and making feeble attempts to push Riki's hands away. He failed and Riki got him flat on his back, pinning him there, holding his slender wrists against the floor beside his head.
"Take it back," he warned again, grinning.
"Or what?" taunted Els, looking back fearlessly.
Suddenly the laughter was gone. Riki became acutely, vibrantly aware of the near naked body under his. Els stared up at him and seemed not to breathe.
"Or this," growled Riki, and kissed him.
For a second, Els didn't move. Chagrined at his own lack of self control, Riki braced for the angry words, the sudden, furious shove, but even as he let go and started to pull away, mumbling an apology, Els suddenly reached up and wrapped his arms around Riki's neck, pulling him back down.
"Don't stop," whispered Els. "Please?"
Riki groaned as the boy thrust his hips up against Riki's. Under the loin cloth, he could feel Els' desire. One of the boy's hands traveled down his back and over Riki's ass.
"Els..."
"Shut up," said the little pet fiercely. His hands tangled in Riki's hair, lips returning to scorch the mongrel's. After that, Riki was lost.