The city lay in the usual wrecked state; dirty, depressed. Economic disadvantage and criminal promiscuity literally running unchecked by the law. What few law-men there were, were far too dangerous to be called upon, so petty theft, drug use, and prostitution were rampant amid the summer heat.
This did not mean that everyone was a criminal; most guys just settled down to a moderately paying job after fourteen, because they needed the security. There were rare exceptions, but for the most part, the age of death was sometime in the thirties for mongrels and maybe forty for mutts.
Not a pleasant notion, but hey...who really gave a damn?
It wasn't like they were leaving anything behind.
In the midst of all this, there was Riki. He was an eighteen year old with a strong body. Being fit and healthy was something to market, and he worked hard everyday. Before, he had done some unsavoury things, and even though he liked to speed on a hot-rod around the edge of the city, he was now more or less 'settled down'. And incurable thirst for freedom made him restless from time to time. Pain and loss had forced him to realize that freedom was not all it appeared to be, though, and sometimes being bound was the more pleasurable way to go.
Setting the last of the shipping crates down, Riki wiped the sweat from his brow and headed to the back. He pulled off his sticky jumpsuit and hopped into the shower. It was not uncommon for two or three guys to shower together, to conserve water, but they never dared to get into the small cubicle with him.
His body was big, and strong, but he had scars. The scary kind that told them he was different. There were burn scars on his back and down one arm, and then he had a long thin scar down in inner left leg.
He was missing a certain something down there, too, although his weapon still rose to the occasion when he wanted. It was something he was half mortified about, half relieved over. His emotions could not really settle when it came to that, and how he had gotten to be that way.
It was in the past, so he tried not to think about it that often.
Payday was always worth celebrating, because he could buy meat...and he did just that. He stocked up on all the essentials, to hold out for about week, and he rather felt like a housewife; it made him feel stupid, thinking like that, so he made himself stop. He took a deep breath of smog polluted air, as he glanced up and down the street before the small shop; it was so unchanging. Before he headed home, he dipped his head and shut his eyes, wondering if the world was going to end soon.
Not that it mattered to him if it did.
The small flat was not as shabby as some. They had electricity and running water. There were three rooms and it had its own bathroom, which was fantastic. The other thing that was nice about it, was that it had two ways in...thus, if anything happened, they could escape.
Riki opened the door, looking around. He came in, noting that the light in the third room was on, and smiled. That meant it was a good day. Putting the food in the cold box in the kitchen, Riki ran a hand over his hair and took a deep breath.
Turning, he slipped into the third room. What he saw was a normal sight, but it still struck him as unusual. A tall, regal man was sitting in a large wheeled chair; his hands were moving with amazing speed over the keys of a relatively nice keyboard, entering data into a system. This was his job now, and how he helped to provide income.
At first, he had not done very well, but now he was actually earning more just from this skill than Riki could ever make doing manual labour.
Because Iason Mink was capable of doing complex computation, at the same level as most computers. His brain was completely different from the Mongrels and Mutts around him, due to the fact that he was a Blondie. His hair was the colour of golden straw, and his skin milk-like. He had two intense eyes, which were somewhere between sapphire and golden.
Just like a cat's eye.
He paused, his finger on the enter button, and then he pressed down. It was clear that he was exhausted. As he slumped back in the chair, his hands went to his legs, which he rubbed as if they were aching.
Coming up behind him, Riki kissed his cheek. There was a momentary stillness about him, then he turned slowly. Also due to being a Blondie, Iason did not change his expression for most things. Even during sex, he tended to remain silent and stony faced. Why, Riki did not fully understand...but he didn't care anymore.
He had hated this person.
He had loved this person.
But regardless to his predominant feeling, he had always ended up back at this person's side. And he had come to realize, at some point, that Iason was lonely. He never said so, he did not speak much. But it was the way he looked up with those eyes of his, and the way that he reached up his proud hand to gently touch Riki's cheek.
These minor and arbitrary gestures were profound speeches coming from this guy. Someone who had once been the closest to 'God', and was now living in the lower reaches of the city with his Mongrel lover.
Feeling a little giddy for some reason, Riki bent and kissed his lips. Iason never refused 'contact', however minor, but there were times when he was less interested. This was not one of those times. Rather, with a hand he questioned Riki; his long fingered hand boldly slipped between Riki's legs, touching that trusty old weapon, and then moving down over the scar there.
"Hmm." Nodding, Riki looked to the side. "I took my meds, so I'm good." He said, softly. "What about you? You have to tell me, or I won't know."
Iason turned his chair a little, his hand resting on one of his legs. They were just stubs now; he had been tall, with a perfectly even gait. The true splendour of the Blondies had been represented by him especially. But now, both his legs were hacked off above the knee. He was only wearing a tunic and shorts, since he hardly needed trousers in his condition.
A reflection of fire rose in his eyes, that Riki could also see. For a moment, they shared this mutual memory; a building burning, and the stench of the things consumed in it. One last smoke as they bid farewell to the world. A pure tryst, both bitter and sacred; as if it were their first and last moment.
And then, the brutal realization that they had been saved. The truth was, their rescuer was none other than 'God'. Iason had been his most 'beloved', and while Riki did not understand the details, he did know he did not have to. When he had woken, he had been in a small hospital, being treated for castration, infections, anemia, severe smoke inhalation, and third degree burns. Those were not easy things to survive. Yet he had.
Iason, on the other had, had been in critial condition for five weeks due to the loss of his legs. After that, he had been despondent and suicidal for another few months. Yet, despite that, he had never objected to it when Riki had found them a place to live. If Riki brought soup and bread to him, he would eat it. And that shallow, emotionless existence and slowly but surely turned into a normal state of consciousness.
"Iason..." Riki asked, waking him from the reverie. "Are you...all right?"
"It is inconsequential." Iason breathed, in his usual disdaining tone. "You are a bit eccentric today, Riki." He turned back again, with the faintest of smiles. "Did something good happen?"
"Yup, I got paid! And that means we are going to feast tonight." Riki declared, putting his hands on Iason's shoulders. "I also got a line on a nicer place; we can afford to move now. It is on the ground floor, and has more space. Good office and everything. It's no mansion, but at least it's not upstairs."
Iason considered this, as Riki let him go and turned to the couch here. "Are you...providing for me?" He asked, as if he were not certain. "That is what this is, isn't it?"
Blinking, Riki turned. "You can look at it that way, if you want to." He said, reminding himself that Iason was of a breed that did not really do that kind of thing for others. Because every aspect of a Blondie's life was dictated by their God, even lovers and wives were just set up for them. And all they had to do was their appointed tasks, drink, and play with their pets...which basically meant sleep around. "But it's also for my sake, you know. I don't really like going up and down all those stairs six times a day."
Iason nodded once, accepting this. Either he believed this, or he did not care if it was true or not...but he was at least responding. In the first few months after he had woken up, Riki had been pretty sure Iason would never speak again. But once he had become 'useful', things had changed; Riki remembered when Katz had abruptly come in, pale as a ghost, and in a mumble told them that he had been 'appointed' to the task. Iason had gotten a small compact computer, which was directly linked to the main database run by God.
Thus, even though he was 'in exile', Iason was still in God's employ.
Now, they were leading a mostly domestic life together, and Riki for one did not think there was anything wrong with that. Just because he was a Mongrel and Iason was a Blondie? That seemed ridiculous when they were both only 'half men'. If even the purely logical intelligence that was called 'God' was going to approve, then he didn't think anyone else should comment.
Swept with another wave of giddiness, Riki pounced on Iason, slipping his arms around this person and picking him up. He could do that now, as Iason had lost so much weight after the accident. He was only half the weight he had been before, and he looked a little different because of that. His arms, long and terribly strong on their own, latched onto him with the instinctive fear of falling.
"You really are eccentric today." He said, as Riki lay him down on the couched. "Hmm..." He blinked at the ceiling, then sighed and carefully undid his tunic. "...Riki..."
"Sorry..." Riki murmured in his ear, then nibbled at it. "I'm not as good at this as you are." He moved down over Iason's neck, then teased the nipples. His hands were just running up and down over his hips. He had scars on his legs, but Riki did not care about that. It had bothered him for the first few weeks, but now, it was just 'what he looked like'.
Iason's hands were not shy about touching his back and arm, either, despite the puckered skin. "You're skills have improved considerably." He said softly, his chest rising and falling more noticeably.
"I had a good teacher." Riki muttered, although he was not sure how he felt about his 'training'. "Never mind. Shut up." He dropped to Iason's lower belly, where he was surprisingly sensitive, and was rewarded by the way Iason gripped at the couch.
Although he could not say what they had been through was 'good', he also could not say that the end result had been 'bad'. This kind of lifestyle... definitely wasn't so bad.