On Hire
by Lena (language corrections by Shayne and Phaedra7veils)
Chapter 5
With a trembling hand Katze brought the lighter to his face and watched impassively as the flame licked the end of a cigarette. He welcomed fresh smoke in his lungs and moved his gaze to the screen. A computing program was running some minor black market calculations. Anything important, anything urgent and most of all anything he cared. But it was good at the moment as it didn't require his participation. He doubted he would be able to work today. He doubted he would be able to do anything productive today. He just didn't want to stare at the blank screen.
He was still shaking after this sorrowful night. He'd been shaking all the morning – since he'd fled Raoul's bedroom just after waking up. Damn, he'd been so stupid! He'd been so stupid trusting the Blondie. How could he have ever believed it would not happen? It'd been heading straight that way from the very beginning.
People, as they say, always want more. Give them an inch and they'll take a mile.
Katze had many opportunities to find out that it was true. Still, he'd believed Raoul. Or rather – he'd been able to adapt to every new situation the Blondie created, to relax after every step further into intimacy. Well, they also say that people can get used to everything.
Katze was positive that he wouldn't get used to this new situation. Wrong. He hoped it wouldn't develop into a situation at all. With any luck it was just one time episode that would never happen again. After all, Raoul must be disappointed. It wasn't any great piece of sex and Katze wasn't making things easier either. But then, the Blondie didn't have any basis for comparison, either.
He almost jumped when the door swooshed open. He felt his hand clench into a fist. Damn, couldn't the bastard leave him alone? He heard steps approaching him and froze. What now? Would Raoul start scolding him for leaving the bed? Would he rape him again? Katze shuddered.
"You didn't come for breakfast," Raoul said.
"No," he heard his own voice, low and hostile.
"It is waiting for you in the kitchen."
Katze wondered if 'I'm not hungry' would sound too dramatic. Probably. But it was true, he wasn't hungry.
"Alright," he said flatly.
For a long moment there was silence. Raoul was still standing behind him, his presence in the room making the atmosphere dense and heavy. Finally the Blondie spoke again.
"Listen, if you don't want to see me, I just wanted to tell you that I'm leaving. I'm going to the Center and I'll stay there as usual. So you are free to come out and do whatever you wish without bumping into me."
Something in those words made Katze turn and finally look at the Blondie. He saw Raoul's face, calm as always. But heavy concern in the elite's eyes almost knocked him back in his seat. Still, as their gazes met, the beautiful lips curved in a little smile.
"And I'd advise you to eat that breakfast," the Blondie added softly. "Reo really did his best this morning."
Katze stared at him silently. There was nothing sensible he could say at something like this. And after a while Raoul's smile faded.
"Katze. I can imagine you are mad at me. Of course, you have the right to be. Still, I would like us to come to terms somehow. I want it to be alright between us."
For a moment the dealer was still gazing at him.
"Will you do it again?" he asked.
Raoul frowned, surprised. "What?"
"I asked: will you do it again. What you did to me in the night."
The Blondie sighed. "We've already discussed it, haven't we?" But the words didn't hit the masterful tone from the night. Instead they sounded with strange resignation. "I really don't know, Katze. It's possible. I'm aware that I shouldn't, but the problem is that I liked it. And the even greater problem is that I don't feel any remorse."
It was true. Raoul had been mulling it over in his mind all the morning. Save for the short feeling of disgust just after... the act, he really didn't have any regrets about what happened. As if having sex with a castrated mongrel, a former furniture, was something absolutely right. Of course it wasn't. It was a much greater offence than playing with himself, but it didn't feel like it. It felt right to be with Katze. It felt right to be in Katze. Whatever Katze might have thought about it.
"Look," Raoul took up, "as much as you may find it hard to believe it, I very much appreciate your company. And I don't mean just bed here, but... the general. I'd be glad if you could... put the bed issue aside. You might hate it, that's your choice, but please, don't hate the days with me. That is all I am asking."
For a moment Katze was still in his chair, cigarette dangling from the corner of his parted lips, gaze glued to the Blondie. Then he leapt up and suddenly was just inches away from Raoul, eyes gleaming dangerously.
"You fucked me senseless last night," he drawled. "You didn't ask my opinion. You didn't even warn me with a single word! As if I were some fuckin' sex doll! You did it against my will!! And now you come here with your shameless sincerity and you want to make peace with me?! What the hell are you thinking?! What do you mean put it aside?! Fuck you, Raoul!"
Raoul eyed the infuriated man silently. Incredible. The mongrel was yelling at him. The mongrel was actually telling him off! He knew he should do something. Slap the mongrel, put him down with some sharp word at least. But he didn't feel like doing it. Instead, he suddenly felt like laughing. Not that there was anything funny in Katze's menacing glance, not that the dealer didn't seem dangerous in his anger. He did and Raoul remembered their first evening together very well. But he was suddenly flooded with relief. He realized what he'd been afraid of all morning. He'd feared to see Katze scared of him, restrained, he would be most unhappy to have the dealer cringing in his presence. Fortunately everything seemed to be all right with that. And if that was so, nothing else mattered. Raoul smiled.
"It will be all right. Somehow."
Katze froze in front of him, perplexed. A wicked idea flashed in Raoul's head.
"And mind me, we're playing chess in the evening."
"Fuck you!" There was stunned indignation in the dealer's voice.
Raoul suppressed a little chuckle. It would madden Katze even more.
"Oh yes, we are."
With that he turned to leave. He was already at the door when he heard Katze slump heavily in his chair.
They did play chess in the evening.
When Raoul came back from work, he ordered Katze to come out of his room, sat him down and said firmly: 'we play'. And then, all evening, he proceeded to be the Raoul Katze had already come to know quite well. Spoiled, haughty, arrogant, but also amusing, sharp-minded, charming. He didn't try to entice Katze with sweet words and fake promises he had no intention of keeping, instead he used the same unnerving frankness as in the morning.
'You must understand it's my right to do as I please with you.'
'Oh, come on, Katze, I don't mean any harm.'
'I'm glad that you are a match for me in so many respects.'
'Punish you? No, no, how could I? Not you. It's just... unthinkable.'
Katze had to admit that as much as this attitude was infuriating, it was also in a way... alluring. He couldn't help it when at some moment his anger started to fade. He still felt sulky, but little by little he started speaking with Raoul the way he always did. And finally, he was sulkily enjoying the evening.
Of course he wasn't fooled, he never forgot what might happen in the night. And when it did happen, he hated it no less than the night before. But at least there was no longer that strident hostility between them. Some of the things Raoul had said during the evening lingered in Katze's memory even while he was being fucked. And it made things a little bit more tolerable.
The days went by, scheduled similarly. They spent them separately – Raoul usually in the Center, Katze running his business in front of the terminal or, rarely, in town. Running it hastily and starting early in the morning, because he knew he wouldn't have time for it in the evening. Strangely, those few hours taken out of his usual sixteen-hour working day didn't make much difference. Pressed by time, he worked more efficiently than before (he didn't know it was possible) and somehow managed to push the business forward.
And then there were evenings. In the evenings Raoul always demanded Katze's company and of course the dealer was in no position to refuse. They usually played chess or some other game. A few times the Blondie tried to draw Katze into one of those elite-favored intellectual discussions. And a few times he took him out. To the gallery, to the restaurant, to the theatre... Suddenly Katze found himself immersed in the fullness of Tanagura's cultural life. He wondered how soon the rumors would start to spread. He had already noticed a few curious, not very welcoming glances. But well, what did he care? It was Raoul's problem not his. And Raoul didn't seem to care either.
"Iason came up with the same idea once," he said one day when they were driving back home from the opera.
Raoul looked at him. "What idea?"
"To try to win Riki by spending time with him, not only screwing him."
The Blondie winced with slight irritation. "Hey, watch your language."
Katze shrugged and didn't say anything more. For a few moments there was silence in the car.
"So what was this idea?" Raoul's curiosity took the better of him. "Did he ask him out?"
An involuntary smile found its way to Katze's face and he quickly looked away to hide it.
"No, actually he demanded to be asked out. He wanted Riki to take him to one of those Midas bars the brat usually visits."
Raoul blinked. "You're kidding."
"Nope."
He wasn't kidding. As much as it sounded ridiculous, it was the plain truth. Another of Iason's concessions to his pet. When it came to Riki, the head of Tanagura was a fountain of crazy ideas.
"But they would recognize him," Raoul pointed out. "Everyone in the bar would get scared. It wouldn't work."
"He went in disguise. Put on some Midas clothes and a wig. He had fun or that's what he told me. They met some of Riki's black market friends. They even taught Iason to play some Midas card games. Afterwards he invited me to his place a few times. They needed a third player."
Raoul frowned, considering Katze's words for a moment. "That's what you were doing when I came that day with the hacker case! I saw cards on the table." He seemed quite agitated with the discovery.
Katze allowed himself a smirk – one, short and quiet. Too much good humor with his tormentor wouldn't be appropriate.
"People do many strange things to impress the ones they care for."
"That bastard told me he was discussing some black market issues with you," Raoul murmured with indignation. And when Katze passed it over in silence, he mused: "Maybe I should do the same. Ask you to take me to your places instead of dragging you around my world."
Katze felt his brows quirk up. "Don't."
"Why?"
"Because. I don't usually visit places. Not even those where they would serve me. Besides," he added, casting a sidelong glance at Raoul, "it wouldn't work with me."
But it was working. Otherwise he would have never had this talk with Raoul. He tried, really tried to give the Blondie the cold shoulder, but no one can sulk forever. Especially when there is someone around you, who for some reason has made you the center of their interests.
It was so completely different from anything Katze had ever known. It wasn't supposed to be like that. Raoul was supposed to be bored by now, it had already been more then a month since this whole thing had begun. But the Blondie didn't show any signs of boredom. On the contrary – he seemed more and more eager to continue this arrangement. And it was making Katze scared.
As ridiculous as it seemed, Raoul's words had come true to the letter. Katze could hate what the Blondie did to him in the night, but somehow, during the day, it didn't disturb the fact that he simply enjoyed spending time with Raoul. And that was maybe even scarier.
Raoul leaned forward to examine the chessboard more closely. He frowned thoughtfully, but a little smile never left his face.
"Hm..." he purred. "I admit it was a nice move, Katze."
Katze didn't think so. In a minute Raoul would find a way to counter his attack. A way Katze certainly wouldn't be able to counter that easily. Although they played chess nearly every evening these days, Katze was still a considerably worse player than the Blondie.
He watched the beautiful man opposite him sullenly. Raoul's eyes narrowed and his smile widened.
"Ah, I know."
Here we go.
The elite moved his hand over the white knight and shifted it in a seemingly innocent move, not even taking any of Katze's figures. Not so innocent, the dealer realized, when he saw what would follow. Now he could take the knight – and reveal his queen, or leave it, but in the next two moves it would check his king. Now that was a nice move. Katze winced unhappily and reluctantly leaned over the board.
However, before he had a chance to think, a comm unit beeped in the room. He heaved a silent sigh of relief. Raoul, on his part, looked displeased.
"Now what is it?" the Blondie murmured. His eyes shifted to Katze as if seeking an answer there.
He punched a little button on the underside of the table. A little rectangular flap in the tabletop moved aside, revealing a recess hidden underneath. A small screen emerged from the inside, coming into the upright position. The comm unit was conveniently built into the table, so that, if the Blondie received a call, say, during a chess game, he didn't have to get up.
Raoul pressed another button and the monitor rotated a few degrees to face him. Still, Katze could see the man that appeared on-screen, a Jade dressed in a lab coat.
"What is it, Grant?" the Blondie asked. His voice was now completely different. Firm, emotionless, business-like, exactly the voice an elite of the highest rank should use with his inferiors. Katze suddenly realized how rarely Raoul used this voice with him.
The man gave his boss a little nod of greeting.
"There has been a problem with breed A-5447, sir," he reported. "We've just discovered that five specimens in the collection are flawed."
Raoul frowned. "A-5447? Those red-haired green-eyed ones ordered by the Academy?"
"That's right, sir."
"What's wrong with them?"
"Some sort of mental disorder." Grant cast a short sidelong glance at Katze, looking a bit disturbed with an unexpected witness to the conversation.
"Go on," Raoul prompted.
The Jade cleared his throat. "There are some serious irregularities in their brainwaves. We are sure the abnormality appeared just lately. We put the pets in question through further tests and it seems they are pretty much handicapped in many respects."
Raoul studied his subordinate with a grim expression. "From what I remember this breed is almost three years old. The awakening is scheduled in... how long? Five months?" Grant nodded. "In five months those pets should be ready to be handed over to the Academy. Why haven't you noticed the problem before?"
"I... we suspect it's one of those unspecified disorders that become active at certain age. I assure you, until now everything looked just fine."
"Even those disorders are possible to detect in advance if all necessary measures are taken," Raoul observed coldly.
"Yes. But you know we can't run all the tests for all pets. It just wouldn't be worth the trouble."
"You should know all possible dangers with every particular breed. You should be able to assess what tests are necessary. And I shouldn't need to remind it to you," Raoul drawled.
The man was practically sweating now.
"We were positive we assessed that correctly with A-5447, sir. I'm truly sorry we didn't."
Katze glanced at Raoul's frowning face curiously. He knew more or less how scientific centers handled bringing up young pets. Taking regular care of them would change the labs into huge kindergartens and no one needed that. Thus the toddlers were kept in special growth chambers until they reached the required age. For the outward world it looked as if they were sleeping, but it wasn't truth. Their consciousness was immersed in virtual realms that helped them develop all basic concepts, social and language skills kids their age should have. It was cheaper and easier than normal maintenance. But it also limited observation to numbers and charts on the life support apparatus. That's why it was quite easy to overlook would-be abnormalities.
Raoul gave out an exasperated sigh. "What do you think can be done with them? Are they fit enough to be sold to some Midas club?"
"Two of them should do. The other three... well, physically they are perfectly okay, but to be honest, sir, I don't think they are fit for anything."
For a moment Raoul looked at Grant sternly. "All right then. Keep those two, apply the growth speeder – anything you'll find suitable. We don't want to bother with them too long. In due time we'll try to find a buyer for them. As for the other three," a minimal pause, "put them to sleep."
With that Raoul cut the connection without waiting for an answer. The screen glided down into its shelter in the table and the flap slid shut.
"Morons," the Blondie growled under his breath. He leaned back on the sofa and wrapped his arms around himself. For a long moment there was silence in the room. Katze eyed him from his place.
"Does it happen often?" he finally risked asking.
The Blondie moved his eyes to him. His expression softened a bit. "Sometimes. It's not very unusual. When you tamper with the genome it's quite likely that in some of the breeds there will be some flawed specimens. Oversights like this also happen, if that's what you're asking. We are growing a few thousands of pets at all times. It's practically impossible to avoid mistakes."
"And that's what you do when you discover something's wrong? Put them to sleep?"
Raoul shrugged. He half closed his eyes, looking slightly impatient.
"And what else can we do?"
Katze just nodded, acknowledging the answer. Indeed, what else?
On Amoi pets' life meant nothing. They were no more than a commodity people used to make money and from which they derived pleasure. When they outlived their time as pets, they were sold to Midas brothels where they usually died after a few years of such life. If one of them got sick – so sick that medical treatment would mean more trouble and expenses than it paid – their owners didn't hesitate to dispose of them by putting them to sleep.
It was the normal, absolutely legal course of action and no one got sentimental over pets' lost lives. Katze always took it for granted. After all, how many pets could an owner put to sleep in their life? One, maybe two – when someone was extremely unlucky with pets, but mostly – none. Those cloned youths were usually in great health. Terminating a few pets every now and then was a whole another story and suddenly Katze felt uneasy. Or was it maybe because now he sometimes felt like a pet himself?
"They are humans, you know," he murmured.
"They are pets," Raoul countered in a hard tone.
"They are human pets."
The Blondie looked at him with irritation. "No one will want them, Katze, not even for free, and they are completely unable to live on their own. What am I supposed to do? Run a shelter for sick and flawed?"
"No, I guess not."
"I'm a biologist in Jupiter's name, that's all I've ever cared to be. But I am aware that science isn't the most important thing in the pet business. Money, that's what really matters. I have to go with that."
Katze watched him silently, he didn't know what to say.
"And you should know it," Raoul added. "You are in that business too."
"I do know it," Katze admitted and suddenly felt like a rotten bastard.
Raoul had little imagination when it came to sex. He never used too much in the way of caresses, he limited his actions to the main event, holding Katze close in his iron embrace. Sometimes he only kissed him, or rather – planted short little kisses on what he could find under his lips at the moment – usually Katze's neck or shoulders. He used only two positions. Either they were lying on their sides, Raoul behind Katze, or the most classic one – Katze on his back, Raoul over him.
Physically it wasn't all that bad – one couldn't say that it was unpleasant. Raoul was always gentle and careful, and after those initial few times it didn't hurt anymore. Although Katze couldn't climax, his prostate gland worked pretty well and he was getting some pleasure out of it. The kisses weren't bad either. But maybe it would have been better if they were. If it did hurt. Maybe then, giving himself to Raoul, he wouldn't have felt so bloody awful.
Every time his body was being used, the act brought so much muffled anger – at Raoul, at himself, at the situation; so many unbearable, yearning thoughts of Iason, that he could hardly stand it. Every time he wanted to scream. Or – much better – smash something. Raoul's nose, preferably.
But as night after night passed, he learned to deal with his emotions. It quickly became a kind of routine. He closed his eyes or fixed them on some relatively interesting spot in his sight, if he was lying on his back he put his arms around the Blondie (well, where else could he put them?), and waited. He shuddered with jolts of unwanted pleasure when Raoul hit his prostate. Not that the Blondie cared to hit it, but it happened now and then by accident. He tried to block all his thoughts until Raoul was through with him. And usually he was through after no more than ten minutes. Also, although Raoul showed interest in sex every night, he never showed it twice a night. One time was absolutely enough to satisfy his desires. And ten minutes around the clock wasn't that much after all, Katze could bear it. Soon the word 'rape' in his private glossary concerning sleeping with Raoul was replaced by 'duty'. It was more like it, after all.
So all in all Raoul wasn't a great performer in bed. And Katze felt neither competent nor eager for more of his favors to try to change matters.
Usually when the night was over, it quickly melted in one with other nights. They all looked more or less the same. One time, however, Katze found hard to forget. Raoul was just starting to thrust behind him, when suddenly he stopped and Katze felt him lean close to his ear. He heard a soft whisper.
"If you feel very bad with me, you can always imagine that it's Iason."
There was no anger, no resentment in these words, they were a simple statement. Katze drew in his breath, his eyes snapping open. And then Raoul was again moving behind him as if nothing had happened. Katze didn't know why it touched him so, but he suddenly reached for Raoul's hands and closed his around them. As if on cue, those strong arms pulled him even closer. Raoul's face huddled to his shoulder. The Blondie quickly reached completion and for once Katze didn't mind.
People, as they say, can get used to everything.
There were as always quite a few people in the lounge of the main tower of Eos. The soft murmur of human voices hung in the air, creating a nice atmosphere of the place. Iason looked into the green eyes of the man sitting across the table from him.
"Come on, Raoul, you were so insistent to meet with me and now you're all tongue-tied. Spit it out already."
The other Blondie swallowed and fixed his gaze on his drink. Iason eyed him curiously. It was clear that Raoul was nervous about something. To an outside person his expressions would probably be scant or none, but Iason knew better. It was quite disconcerting actually, as it seemed that lately his friend had some problem controlling his emotions.
The biologist took another moment of brooding and hesitating, but finally he looked up.
"I started taking Katze," he said.
Iason braced himself to keep his face straight.
"Oh. You mean you had sex with him?"
Raoul nodded. Although his cheeks were a faint color of pink, having said this, he seemed to have relaxed.
"And... you took him more than once?"
"I've been taking him every night for over two weeks."
Iason drew in his breath, feeling his stomach churn with strange excitement.
"So, it got through to you finally."
"You didn't say it was so addictive." Raoul's gaze was almost reproachful. "At first I was going to try it just once. But then... there was the second night and the third one, and the next, and finally I gave up telling myself that I would end it." He smirked with a hint of bitterness. "I couldn't keep quiet about it any longer. I had to tell somebody. Somebody who would understand."
"So, you like it."
Raoul gave him a very meaningful look. Iason smiled.
So, the very thing he'd been expecting from the beginning had finally happened. Or... had he expected it? Wasn't he supposed to have fun watching Raoul breaking into the abyss of depravity? He was, but somehow now, when he'd heard the news, he discovered that he was... surprised. Maybe he hadn't believed his friend would break, after all. Maybe he hadn't expected it would go that far. Interesting. Katze, an object of sexual desires. Katze regularly taken by somebody. At first it seemed ridiculous. On second thought—
"With all due respect, Raoul," he offered, "I wonder what satisfaction you can get from Katze. He can't even feel what you are doing to him. He can't... react to that. You receive no feedback to your actions."
"So?" Raoul looked surprised. "What's wrong about it? I don't mind that."
"You don't mind?"
"No, actually I think it's a good part."
Iason raised his brows, astonished. "Why?"
Raoul's eyes darkened and lost their focus. As if they were seeing something completely different than the lounge when the Blondie started to speak. "To see him, lying like that beneath you... He can hardly feel any pleasure, but he is there, he holds you with his arms, he opens his legs for you, he endures everything you do to him and doesn't complain. It makes me feel... important. Being a boss of the whole TBC doesn't make me feel so important as this simple thing. He gets nothing out of this, it's all for me. He does it for me. Even if he doesn't like it. I love the thought of him surrendering to me like that."
Iason's eyes flashed with genuine interest.
"I admit I haven't thought about it," he murmured and then laughed softly, leaning back in his seat. "You know, Raoul, you've become a pervert."
For a moment Iason felt as if he'd just seen the light.
Katze switched the computer off.
"Time for a fuck."
He sighed at these words. They still sounded so strange in his lips.
He took the last drag of his smoke, then put it out and got up from his chair. He went to the bathroom, prepared himself quickly and left the room clad in his pajamas. He was passing the great hall when a thin voice reached him.
"Mr. Katze!"
He stopped, looked around. Reo. Standing in the kitchen door.
"Mr. Katze, sir," the furniture called him again, hesitantly.
Silently, he moved towards the boy. Reo retreated two steps into the kitchen and Katze stopped at the threshold, taking a quick peek inside. Three pots sat on the stove, bubbling with steam, there were some dishes in the sink and the remnants of food on the cupboard. Reo must have been well behind with his daily chores. Usually at this hour he would be in his room, long off-duty.
"What is it?" the dealer asked.
The furniture looked at him with strange eyes. "It's true, isn't it? You are with him."
What!? Of all the things Katze had expected Reo to say, this was maybe the last one. What made the kid ask such a question? Really, didn't he know? Was there any chance that by now he still had any doubts?
Even if, it wasn't furniture's place to ask something like this and for a moment Katze was angered by the boy's audacity. He wanted to spit: 'That's none of your business.' But then he saw expectation in those eyes. And he understood. He suddenly remembered himself those ten years ago and guessed what the boy was thinking. The anger instantly dissipated. He forced himself to smile.
"Yeah, I guess so."
"So there is hope for us. We can still be happy with someone."
'We' referred to furniture. Of course by now Reo also knew who the condo's new resident had once been. And he simply couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Katze suppressed an urge to roll his eyes. Stupid kid with his stupid wishes. And why the hell did he think Katze was happy? Katze was anything but happy.
But he didn't stop smiling.
"Sure we can," he said and was rewarded by Reo's most brilliant grin. He shook his head exasperatedly. "Don't stay up too long, Reo. Good night."
He turned and left not waiting for an answer, but heard it nevertheless.
"I won't. Thanks. Good night, sir." Bright, cheerful. Full of happiness.
Raoul was already in the bed when Katze came in. As always, waiting for him with a book. The silk sheet covering the lower part of his body ran dangerously low across his hips, revealing some hint of what was beneath. Golden hair fell beautifully on the shoulders. Has he been posing himself or what, Katze thought detachedly, unable to tear his eyes away from the impressive sight before him. Raoul met his gaze and gave him a slight smile, putting the book aside.
"Hi." The simplicity of that word seemed inadequate.
"Hi," Katze answered.
"So, how did it go today? Have I interrupted much of your work?"
The question didn't really have any meaning in it. Just small talk. Raoul always tried to small talk with him before he used him. Ask him questions – whatever they were, it didn't matter. In a way it was nice. Much nicer than if he just took Katze without words. He sat down on the bed.
"No, not much."
And unexpectedly a smile crept across his lips. The encounter with Reo put him in a strange mood tonight. Suddenly Raoul with his whims, and frowning, and small talks seemed so... naive to him. Suddenly Katze felt almost condescending.
"What?" Raoul asked, studying his face.
"Nothing." But then he heard himself saying, "Sometimes you're such a kid, Raoul."
The Blondie looked at him, surprised, but then he just shook his head. He took the edge of the cover and pulled it aside.
"Get in," he motioned briskly with his chin, a hint of smile playing on his lips.
So Katze got rid of his pajamas and quickly got under the quilt. And a moment later Raoul was over him. He rested his elbows on either of Katze's sides, looking down at him.
"A kid, you say," he offered.
"Yep."
"I don't think I want an explanation."
And with that he entered Katze easily. He lowered himself over the dealer and started working rhythmically. Katze wrapped his arms around the Blondie to steady himself and poked his nose into the crook Raoul's neck. He inhaled the scent. Jupiter, it was nice. The bastard must have again used something incredibly expensive after the bath. He took a few deep breaths to relish the aroma. Nice, indeed.
Raoul's body was a little bit too heavy over him, but at least it warmed pleasantly. Gods, sometimes lying like this Katze felt like humming to kill time. Or making faces since Raoul couldn't see him. But no, let's retain some dignity.
The Blondie lowered his head to his neck and started kissing it, his lips soft and warm, sucking delicately. Katze gasped, feeling his fingers dig into the other man's back. Oh, damn, stop it! Stop it, it's feeling too... Luckily Raoul did stop soon. The Blondie's hair was scattered all over their heads. A few strands fell on Katze's cheek, soft and tickling. On reflex, he reached out and gathered the locks from his face and from the pillow. He tucked them behind the Blondie's ear. Raoul stopped moving. He lifted himself over Katze.
"They were getting into my eyes," Katze explained. His voice came out in a whisper.
"Oh," Raoul whispered back. "Sorry."
Katze's hand was still entangled in the golden mass of hair, brushing the delicate skin of the earlobe. He took it away quickly and wrapped his arm around the Blondie again. Raoul leaned down to him and pressed his lips to the scarred cheek, taking in a deep breath. He resumed thrusting and came just a few moments later, his loud sigh echoing in Katze's ear. He slumped on Katze and stayed like that, as usual. The dealer closed his eyes. He could still smell the intoxicating aroma of Raoul's skin, the perfume now mixed with sweat; he could feel the elite's weight on himself. He heard Raoul's quickened breath, felt it hot on his neck. He had a sudden urge to stroke the Blondie's back in some silly, soothing gesture. Oh, what the hell, he stroked it, just once. It seemed to him that Raoul shuddered.
"Hey, let me go," he murmured. "I have to... you know."
"Don't go," Raoul's voice sounded sullen. "I don't care for my sheets."
Katze chuckled somewhat nervously. "Sure you do. Come on, Raoul."
There was a moment of silence.
"Oh well, all right," the Blondie surrendered and moved aside, releasing him. "But don't be long."
Katze sent him a wan smile, getting out of bed. "Yeah, right. I won't."
Night had just fallen over the city. It was a beautiful, warm night with thousands of stars illuminating the sky. The moons hung over the buildings, clasped to each other right in front of Iason's eyes. Always together – there was something magical about this sight.
But Iason wasn't interested in the moons at the moment. He stood, leaning against the balcony ledge, slowly inhaling the smoke of an expensive cigarette. It was one of those rare moments when the taste of smoke felt good in his mouth. Usually he loathed it.
Since the meeting with Raoul earlier that day he'd felt strange. He had parted with his friend thinking that he was glad with such an outcome. He had a twisted satisfaction. He'd managed to turn the ever-so-straight Raoul to his depraved side. Finally the biologist would stop lecturing him, finally they would be able to talk like friends again. Maybe they would even talk about that, have fun sharing their experience, chit-chatting about their lovers... ehm, pets? It was nice to have another elite-mongrel couple around.
But there was something else underneath this happiness. Like... a kind of unrest. In a way, Iason still felt responsible for Katze. For so many years the mongrel had been his furniture, and then his second in command in the black market. Almost like Raoul had been his second in command in legal business. Iason was aware that for all that time he had been the most important person in Katze's life. And now suddenly there was someone else.
Unexpectedly, he found himself morbidly curious about what happened in the darkness of Raoul's bedroom. Numerous questions whirled in his brain. How were they doing it? Did Katze hurt? Or... maybe he liked it? Raoul had said he didn't seem quite enthusiastic, but didn't protest either. Maybe he should protest. He still belonged to Iason after all, he should keep that in mind. Did he really hold Raoul when the Blondie was doing it to him? Suddenly an image of Raoul and his Katze entwined in love embrace appeared very clear in Iason's mind.
His Katze... Ah, damn it, Raoul was taking his Katze. Iason smirked brokenly at the thought, realizing that he was also angry about that.
"What is it?"
He turned around, startled and met Riki's gaze. The young man approached him in a slow, soundless gait and Iason felt a smile curving his lips. He hadn't heard Riki come out on the balcony. Sometimes his pet could stalk like a cat.
"Why do you think there is something?"
The mongrel stopped beside him. He moved his gaze to the cigarette between Iason's fingers.
"You were smirking in that funny way, you're smoking. You hardly ever smoke. Usually when something's on your mind."
Iason raised one brow. "Ah, you're such a great psychologist all of a sudden?"
"Always have been," Riki shrugged, "you just didn't care to notice. So, what is it?"
Iason turned his eyes away and looked at the night cityscape again.
"Nothing."
"It isn't nothing. You won't fool me, Iason. I can see something's bothering you."
"It's nothing, Riki," Iason repeated with emphasis. And what was he supposed to say? That he was standing here brooding about Katze?
"Alright. So you don't want to speak," Riki concluded, clearly displeased. "Again you don't want to speak with me. I ask you questions, try to talk to you, and all you do is dismiss me."
"I don't dismiss you. But you can't expect me to tell you everything. About some things I just can't talk."
"And about some you don't want to," Riki countered. "Because you think I wouldn't understand, right? Like, a mongrel is too dumb to discuss certain things with him."
Iason looked at Riki sternly. What had gotten into his pet suddenly to scold him like this? Well, Iason definitely wasn't going to discuss that.
"There are some things, Riki, I won't discuss with a mongrel," he admitted.
Riki's face pulled into a frown. He looked hurt. "Maybe that's our problem, you know? The only good thing between us is sex. There is not only sex in life." With that he turned and left the balcony.
"Talk to me, Katze," Raoul offered unexpectedly.
The dealer moved his gaze to the Blondie, surprised. Raoul was lying on his back, staring at the canopy as he often did after he used Katze.
"What about?"
Raoul shrugged. "Anything. I just don't want you silent. There is so much I still don't know about you. Like—your work. It must be interesting what you do in the black market. Or where did you learn so much about computers, or what was it like to live in Ceres. Or... why is it that you love him so much?"
Katze inhaled sharply. "I don't..."
"Shhh. I know you do."
So he didn't try to deny it anymore. For a while he just stared at the Blondie silently. Something was there, in his throat, giving him this strange feeling, pulling his face into an expression of... what?
"Raoul, Raoul," he shook his head and finally allowed his lips to curl in a faint smile. What the hell. He didn't feel sleepy yet. He could just lie like that, sulking. Or he could as well say something.
He sat up, crossing his legs and turning to face Raoul. He covered his lower body with his part of the quilt. The Blondie glanced at him curiously and Katze smiled.
"So? What do you want to hear first?"