by R. Cooper
Taji tried to shake away the warm, golden fog around his mind so that would connect to Shavian not-riots.
“Mos,” Tsomyal interrupted Taji’s confused processing, “we will continue to our residence. You may depart from us there, if you wish. If you do not, you may stay, but we can offer no protection. It is not a proper embassy, and even if it were, I am not certain if an association with the rebellious Inri is wise at this time.”
They were already associating. Which Taji only didn’t say because he was comfortable and Trenne was warm and absently petting his ribcage.
“Mr. Ameyo,” Tsomyal shook Taji from his daze, “if you have your data device, could you please compose a message to send to the Olea estate in the capital? We will have to pay to send it by courier as well, but the point is to be seen doing it. We are not hiding, but neither do we want to seem as though we are flaunting some nonexistent conspiracy. Something polite. We are sorry our time was cut short at Laviias and hope he is well. We have returned to the lovely home that was shared with us. You understand?”
Taji nodded, although Tsomyal wouldn’t see. “I’ll watch more of the feeds too.” They wouldn’t report anything about Laviias or Rinnah, but they generally didn’t mention nobles by name without a specific reason. Anyway, the Olea had the capital for the moment but Rinnah was almost a stranger to them.
“Mr. Ameyo,” Tsomyal’s voice prodded Taji from his drifting thoughts again, “once you have done that, I think you should rest.”
“I worry about you, too,” Taji answered them sleepily, and had his eyes closed again before he could wonder why everyone had gone quiet.
Chapter Fourteen
TAJI COMPOSED the message while curled up on a pile of cushions in the house’s small atrium. He had been placed here, he suspected to keep him in everyone’s line of sight. It was the kind of thing Nadir would have teased him about—Taji, at the center of trouble again—but, of course, Nadir wasn’t with them and no one else said anything.
Taji did not cause trouble. The incidents that had occurred around Nadir, including Taji’s supervised trip through the markets of the capital and his quest to find lubricant, had not been Taji’s fault. Besides, that trip had mostly involved Taji’s rising embarrassment, Nadir’s smirking, and Trenne’s long-suffering silence.
He sent a copy of the message to the Olea residence, as well as to Tsomyal, who was resting in their rooms, watched some feeds, possibly dozed for a moment or two, and then snapped awake. The others remained in constant motion, although they had to be tired.
Upon arrival, they had swept the house for anything suspicious: bugs, explosives, traps, and poisons. The bags from the flier had been unloaded, then repacked. The kitchen had been emptied of all supplies that might have been contaminated. The others seemed to be taking turns cleaning up, while the rest of them packed their personal belongings in preparation for sudden departure.
Mos had not left. She was allegedly waiting for the situation in the Fires to calm. She had asked to borrow a data device and been denied—by Lin, on security grounds—and so had gone to one of the empty rooms to rest, or sulk, or plot. Taji was not sure which.
Taji should go to his room and do the same—rest, if not sulk. The ambassador had all but ordered him to look after himself, and it was a good idea. He’d been through a lot and his body needed to recover. Sex could mask that for a time, but Taji was crashing. He had some weak painkillers in his room, and sleep sounded nice.
He wobbled to his feet and spent several seconds looking down at his poor bare toes before he stumbled to the lift, waving off Rodian’s questions as he went. Taji wasn’t dying. He had lived through something traumatic and had a lot of sex. His body and brain were struggling with the comedown, that was all.
Taji reached his floor without falling down, but leaned against his door as he debated cleaning up or packing his things and then cleaning up. He didn’t have much to pack. No meaningful memories of his time here.
Considerably more depressed, he headed to the bathing room, where he left his borrowed clothes in a pile and sat on the floor to let the water pour over him. The bottom of one foot was bruised. His back probably was as well, but despite how hard he’d landed on the stone steps at Laviias, he didn’t feel much pain.
He turned the water off, toweled himself dry, moisturized his skin and hair, then realized he had forgotten to bring clothing with him. He went naked down the hall to his room.
Nothing was out of place. If anyone had cared enough to go through Taji’s belongings during his time in Laviias, they hadn’t bothered to disturb his mess. His toy was still on the table, his crutch on the floor.
He surveyed the space. He had his research from the shepherd moon, but not even his borrowed soria or shimmer anymore. Nothing from Mirsa to show he had been here. It made him wonder who was packing up Nadir’s belongings. Someone in Nadir’s family might want something from his kit.
That was a bad thought. It made him think of his father, and what IPTC would tell him if anything happened.
Energy draining by the second, Taji got out a single outfit—pants, shirt, boots—then stuffed the rest of his clothes into one bag. He placed it on the floor with his crutch. Everything else—his research from the moon, personal stuff like leftover lubricant—he could pack later.
There might be food waiting downstairs by now, but the thought of more protein drink or nutrient bars made him nauseated. In the end, he sat on the edge of his bed and did nothing. After a while, the heat from his shower faded, so he dropped onto his side and pulled part of the bedding over him.
Enough time had passed that if he went down to sit with the others, they might start teasing him about that morning. Taji had been staring at Trenne so hard that everyone had fled. Mortifying wasn’t a strong enough word. He curled up and dragged the blanket over his head.
“Taji?” Trenne’s voice sent prickles through Taji’s skin and made him turn to bury his already hidden face. “Taji?” Trenne asked again, strangely hesitant. “You have been up here for several hours,” he added, leaving Taji to frown because that couldn’t be right. “There is food and usually you are hungry. You did not eat much today.”
“Did you rest at all?” Taji mumbled. “Did you eat?” He pulled the blanket from his face. “That sounded cranky, but I meant it in concern.”
Trenne had closed the door behind him but was staying respectfully near it. Taji would have rolled his eyes, but they were busy drinking in the sight of Trenne with damp, shining skin and perfectly bound hair in a clean, short-sleeved black shirt.
“Do you look better than before?” Taji wondered in disbelief. “I bathed and I still feel sticky.”
Trenne came forward immediately. “Do you need medicine?” He put a knee on the bed to study Taji. “You look…warm.”
“Hmm,” Taji answered noncommittedly, staring at the stretch of Trenne’s uniform fabric over Trenne’s thigh. “Is everyone all right? Did he…did Larin say anything?”
“They are well. They rest and eat, as you should.” Trenne came a little closer. Taji’s gaze skittered over the vee of Trenne’s legs, lingering on the shape of Trenne’s cock before Taji quickly directed his eyes higher. Trenne seemed focused on Taji’s other problem. “Have you worried about him? I think he has forgotten us.”
“No, you don’t.” Taji was certain. “And I don’t either. We might not be his primary target, but he doesn’t mind us suffering. He would have rounded us up in Laviias just to watch us squirm for a while.”
Trenne exhaled heavily but didn’t deny it. “That is why you need to feel better. You do not want to eat?”
“Hmm,” Taji thought about it, about putting food in his mouth. “No.”
Trenne’s ears went sideways and flat. That was new.
“No one else gets to see your ears do that,” Taji said, pleased. “Can I touch them?”
Trenne stared at him for a long moment, then knelt fully on the bed and bowed his head to let Taji trail his fin
gers through the hair at the tip. His comm cuff was on. It could have been transmitting, but Taji didn’t think so. Trenne would never shame a shehzha with a breach of their privacy.
Taji moved his hand to Trenne’s cheek. Trenne’s skin was hot to the touch. Or maybe that was Taji. Taji sighed at the contact anyway and shifted forward to rub his cheek on Trenne’s knee. “I don’t want to go downstairs. I want to stay here. This feels good and I haven’t felt good since this morning.”
Trenne rested his hand on the top of Taji’s head. “You are very warm.”
“Yeah,” Taji agreed muzzily, and pulled Trenne’s hand down to kiss his wrist. A shiver ran through him. He made himself let go before flopping over on his back. Trenne’s attention went briefly to Taji’s bare shoulders and collarbone. Taji closed his eyes. “Something’s wrong.”
Trenne planted his hands on either side of him. “Tell me.”
“It’s wrong.” Taji licked his lips. They tasted like Trenne. “But it doesn’t feel wrong.”
Trenne’s worry was too much. “Taji.”
“Taji shehzha,” Taji corrected firmly and opened his eyes. He tipped his head back and thought, with sudden, terrifying honesty, that he needed Trenne’s hands on him. He pulled in a breath that didn’t help. “You smell good.” It came out as a moan. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I feel like I’m using you and that’s not what I want. But this is too fast, isn’t it? We’re supposed to bond or…or have feelings before the hormones turn me into this. I know I already did, but I’m human so that wasn’t supposed to matter. But, Trenne, I want you so much.” It wasn’t overwhelming, not yet, but he had never been so aware of another person in his life. He met Trenne’s stare as bravely as he could. “All I can think of since you came in is you touching me.”
Trenne exhaled in absolute, shocked wonder. “Shehzha.”
The worship in his voice.
Taji’s eyes briefly fluttered closed. “This morning…is that what it’s going to be? Because it was good—so good. But I wasn’t…I thought I’d get more time to be with you before I got lost in this. Or, I didn’t think I’d get lost, I guess. But you felt good in my mouth. I could have done that for hours.” He sighed shakily. “You’re more than that, but right now the memory is beneath my skin.”
“You should not…” Trenne trailed to silence, as if even Trenne had not anticipated this. But he put a hand on Taji’s shoulder and inhaled loudly when Taji arched his back. “What do you need?” Trenne asked, focused now. “We were not careful enough. I was not.”
“Trenne,” Taji did his best to sound irritated and not aroused from a hand on his shoulder, “please keep touching me.”
He was not expecting a small, tender kiss on his forehead but he probably should have been. “Peha,” Trenne whispered, leaving Taji to close his eyes again in need and embarrassment. The bed shifted as Trenne moved so he was kneeling over Taji on his hands and knees. Taji was pulling on Trenne’s shirt to slide his hands over Trenne’s bare back before he had any conscious intention to do so.
“The Guard could be coming for us and I would still want this.” Taji spread his legs as much as the blanket would allow and tried to pull Trenne on top of him. “I think I was waiting.”
“For me?” Trenne’s breath was hot over Taji’s neck. The faint rasp of the surface of his palm against Taji’s shoulder was so light it was torture.
Taji feverishly nodded. “Didn’t want to put on clothes. See?” He pulled Trenne’s hand down his chest to his waist and the edge of the blanket. The startled backwards flick of Trenne’s ears had Taji smiling for a moment, wide and elated. “I’m naked for you,” he whispered, and didn’t feel lost in that second, not with Trenne silent. “Will you touch me?”
Trenne sat back on his knees and tugged the blanket down to expose Taji’s cock. He cradled it in his palm and let out a satisfied breath at Taji’s full-body shiver.
Taji loved him from his alert, pleased ears to the bottom of his big Shavian feet. “I’ll beg for you,” Taji realized and promised all at once. “I am going to. That will happen. I’ll be in this bed or somewhere else, and I’ll beckon.” Trenne should have that, and Taji could provide it, even if it hurt later.
“Everything.” Trenne used ‘Asha, making soft words even softer. “If you ask, I will give it.”
Taji couldn’t have kept his eyes shut if he’d tried. “What will you give me now?”
Trenne did not stop fondling Taji’s hardening cock although he seemed caught by Taji’s gaze. “You know that answer, shehzha.”
Taji curled his toes. “Yes. But I like when you say it.”
“Greed enough to take all I have.” Trenne came down onto his hands again and then settled over Taji’s body. Taji could feel the outline of his knife pressed into his stomach and sighed in contentment. “Though it is already yours.”
Taji briefly hid his face against Trenne’s shoulder. “It’s less scary when you do that,” he confessed. “I’m constantly scared except for with you. I’ll lose myself to you for a while and it’s terrifying but not when you say that. It’s not greed, what a shehzha feels. Not really.”
Trenne’s chest rumbled with words he didn’t say, and then some that he did. “Your honor is too great.”
“No, it isn’t,” Taji disagreed, licking the side of Trenne’s neck, searching for the taste he needed. “I’m using you.” Trenne gave a start, then drew in a breath as if to argue. Taji gripped him tighter, tangling his fingers in his hair. “I am. But, Trenne, you could use me. You could take what you wanted and I would still love it, mindless shehzha or not. Whatever you wanted. You’ve given me that, but have you thought of it? Later…later it won’t matter. This will grow deeper and I will melt for you, live on my knees if you wish it. For a time, I won’t be anything but a hole, hungry for you.” Taji ached at the words, his cock throbbing. “But right now, I’m not mindless, and you still could. If you…if you want me like that.”
Trenne raised his head, pulling free of Taji’s hands with ease. He was so much stronger than Taji. Taji was terrified again for a moment, thinking of what he would become, and then Trenne said, “I will not hurt you.”
“Love,” Taji named him, adoring, but there was no helping that now, “if you don’t want me that way, it’s fine.”
Trenne skimmed a hand across Taji’s head, trailing a touch down the side of his face. “Use you for my pleasure.” His stare was intense. “I am not him.”
Taji’s heart was probably in his eyes. “That’s why I can ask this, or give you this, however you want me to say it. But only if you want it. If not, I’ll just—”
“I like my shehzha naked for me.” Trenne whispered it, like a dirty secret or a shamed confession. “I like you beneath me. You are very small, and you move, and it feels…I like this, peha.” He paused to reassure Taji, as though Taji wasn’t mesmerized. “The tightness of you is…much, and a test for me.”
“I move,” Taji filled in for him raptly, thinking of his desperate wriggling when impaled on Trenne’s cock and how it must feel to Trenne. “Do you want to hold me still?” He swallowed. “Yeah—yes. You can do that. Please do that.” Taji squirmed demonstratively at the look Trenne gave him, then shuddered when Trenne splayed one hand over his hip and held him down. “Trenne,” he was already breathless, “I’m ready.”
“I do not think you are.” Trenne regarded Taji with interest that was all the more intense when he went silent. His silence meant things. “We still must take care,” he offered at last. “But I would like to be inside you again, if you will allow it.”
Taji was already nodding. “You just like to hear me say yes.”
“Yes,” Trenne agreed, somehow making his voice even softer.
“Please,” Taji begged quietly. “Yes.” He waved in another direction, hopefully toward the table by his bed and the dildo that it was too late to hide. “I still have some lube here.”
Trenne glanced to the table, possibly also at the toy. Taji cou
ld have told him that he had used it while imagining it was Trenne’s cock, but Trenne likely knew it already. Jha, Taji had told him, and meant it. Trenne reached the table without straining, though he did sit up.
The tiny pot of Shavian lube almost disappeared in Trenne’s palm. One-handed, he stripped the blanket from Taji’s legs. He kneeled between Taji’s knees before Taji had time to shiver. He placed the pot on the bed with deliberate care, then ran both of his hands up and down Taji’s sides to warm him before sliding them slowly down to Taji’s thighs.
Taji parted them wider, chest tightening in anticipation. Trenne bent down to press his mouth to Taji’s navel, his hair tickling and leaving goosebumps behind when he rose back to his knees. He dipped his fingers into the lubricant, then rubbed it in his hands before using them to slick Taji up. He was thorough, as though he didn’t notice Taji restless under him. He dipped his fingers again to coat Taji’s thighs and the crease of his hip, the tender skin behind his balls. He leaned down to murmur against Taji’s stomach.