Hi guys!
So, Cirilla9 asked for more Raoul/Iason, and this happened. Dedicated to a special reviewer!
This piece is AU to Katze's Verse. It stems off after the final chapter in Raoul's Experiment. It explores what could have been, if Dana Bahn hadn't happened right after. So if you are a new reader, I highly recommend reading the original first.
The last piece was dark and heartbreaking. This first chapter is filled with light, yet still heartbreaking. Things with Katze needed to be put to rest before we got into Blondie action. So angst warning, surprise surprise.
Iason. We must discuss.
The pale Blondie arched an eyebrow at the text-com.
He had wondered if Raoul would ignore the brief incident between them. Statistical probabilties were split neatly in half, rendering viable prediction impossible. The short message opened up new possibilities.
Good.
This should prove an interesting development. Iason grinned, perfect white teeth catching the bluish light in his office. It was not a particularly nice smile. It would have probably scared a human.
Raoul was not human, though, and neither was Iason. The First One remembered Raoul's cool hand, resting on his erection in an alien bed. Oh yes.
Very good.
A very un-Blondie excitement stirred behind his ribs. Iason schooled his face to blankness.
He responded with one word. One word that could change everything.
Agreed.
...
The argument between Katze and Raoul was resolved easily.
After Raoul had unexpectedly plunged the dealer into transe, against his will, he had been quite sure that their weekly training was over. Surprisingly, Katze had soon texted a short message that he was at least willing to negociate further sessions.
Convincing him had been easy.
Far too easy.
Raoul suspected Iason's hand in it.
Iason.
Iason was the cause of more upset for Raoul.
The problem with Raoul was that his impeccable Blondie memory would not allow him to forget. The unexpected feeling of Katze sagging into his arms, all pliant and willing, continued to arouse him whenever he let the tactile souvenir return.
The exact opposite was proving just as disturbing. Iason's strong arms encircling Raoul's back as he blinked to consciousness had felt nice. Safe. Suddenly stripped of will-power, it was a vulnerable Raoul who had half-cognizantly registered the large muscular thigh providing just a hint of friction between his own legs. The smell of Iason's hair and the mechanically regular whisper of his breath in Raoul's neck had been pleasant enough that the physician had sagged into the hug far longer than was proper.
Raoul's formidable curiosity was awakened.
And, as usual, he did not think it would go away until he explored the situation and could draw the appropriate conclusions.
Raoul had recognized this fact about himself long ago. It was why he chose to first reflect on all aspects of the urge to explore physical intimacy before initiating rash actions.
Raoul was Blondie.
He had centuries of time. And so did Iason. A change in his programming this fundamental -this illegal- needed careful analysis.
...
Raoul might have time. But Katze did not.
So it was that the next week, wednesday's appointment began with an awkward bow from the human and an overly formal response from the android.
For the first training session, Raoul did not attempt to initiate any remotely sexual response. Katze was wary and tense despite a sharp rebuff that he was fine. Raoul focused the session purely on relaxation, drawing Katze in and out of light transe.
It was... unsatisfying.
Katze left the session feeling mellower than he had in weeks, yet the spark was missing. The spark that made Katze hope for wednesday all week. The spark that brought high color to his cheeks and almost insurmountable tension in his body. The thrill of doing something reckless and new and experimental. The excitement of not being in control, of being led blind-folded along the edge of a deep deep pit.
Their first session after Raoul had breached Katze's trust was safe. Boring.
Katze understood why Raoul did it, but he couldn't deny that some thrill-seeking part of him was disappointed. Next wednesday would see the return of deep transe and powerful arousal training techniques, Katze told himself as he left to a placid nod from Raoul.
Except it didn't.
The next week was exactly the same... Relaxing.
Safe.
Boring.
And so was the next one, and the one after that.
Like a shard under his skin, it irritated Katze. Did Raoul really think he was so weak that he needed to be coddled forever? Katze hated, hated, pity. The simple fact that he had accepted to return meant that he implicitly still trusted Raoul. Didn't the arrogant Blondie see that?
"Are you going to dance around like this without getting to the point forever?" Katze challenged at the end of the fifth innocent session.
A small smile played over Raoul's perfect features. It was not helpful at all, giving Katze no clue as to how the Blondie would react to his outburst. He braced himself for anger, or cold condescension.
What he got was unexpected.
Honesty.
"I am." Raoul answered, deep voice calm and even.
What? That was not the plan. Katze was primed for confrontation. The dealer decided to shut his mouth and wait for more information before reacting.
After a contemplative pause, Raoul continued.
"Hypnosis is about trust. I will take as long as needed to make sure we are ready, before I work on your sexual response again."
Katze crossed his arms, making his coat rustle. He felt vaguely ridiculous, standing near the door and having life-altering conversations.
"I trust you." He admitted quietly, without hesitation.
And Raoul knew it was true. The human had been going under quite willingly for the past two sessions. Katze yearned for more. Raoul could read it in his body-language, in the enticing shadow between soft lips parted in anticipation.
...
Warm body sliding into his arms, instant rush of power.
...
When the Blondie didn't answer, Katze continued.
"You were wrong to force me under without my consent. But I get that it was not done with the aim to hurt me. It was for your damn research."
It was an illumination Katze had experienced in the dead of night, sitting on the balcony with the wind whipping at his hair. Thoughts and turmoil had blended, flashing to that one time Katze had hurt Riki by taking his still-sore ass. Riki had not minded. Riki had encouraged it.
Riki was weird.
After, he had led Katze to the important discovery that what was important was not the act itself, or even it's consequences. It was the motivation behind it that made the difference.
Somehow, that knowledge had sunk into the dark dusty spaces of Katze's mind, until long sleepless hours of agitation had pulled the memory out. It had finally settled things.
Two weeks ago, Katze had made his peace with Raoul. The Blondie's motivation was simple, and pure. Scientific data. Katze could accept that.
And now that Katze was ready for more, having the Blondie continue to hold them back chafed. Even if, rationally, there was no way for him to know of Katze's late-night illumination; which was why Katze had spontaneously decided to be blunt and truthful.
Raoul stood and walked to stand by the window.
...
The smell of coffee and smoke and human, lingering in his clothes.
...
Raoul kept his back to Katze, hands clasped daintily at the small of his back. The position made the fabric of his tunic pull over broad shoulders. Katze watched his trim figure appreciatively.
When Raoul pushed his hands into his pant's pocket, a strangely nonchalant human pose, Katze couldn't help noticing more details. The suit's long tails fell apart, seperating at the tailored slit; the perky slope of a pant-covered Blondie rear was just visible. Katze should really not be enjoying the sight so much, not in the midst of a serious conversation.
"I wish to ensure of your reactions before continuing."
...
The needy little grunt of the red-head tumbling into transe with a single snap of Raoul's fingers.
...
Raoul's voice was calm and refined. Sensual. Unless that was because Katze had so often let Raoul's voice arouse him that the tone was enough. Katze thought he might be titillated by Raoul reading the newspaper, if he whispered all sultry and smooth.
Raoul, unaware of Katze's impertinent reflections, continued.
"For the sake of transparency," he said, "I must say I am closely monitoring my own response as well as yours."
...
The instant hardening of his penis, so strong it made Raoul's hips rock instinctively.
...
Katze took a few seconds to digest that.
He could feel his cheeks heating. Fuck, he was quite sure what Raoul was implying. Katze had a fuzzy souvenir of coming to himself in the Blondie's arms. In the few seconds before anger obliterated everything, the red-head had registered the unmistakeable nudge against his lower back. It was a familiar feeling, so like Iason's.
Fuck.
Katze made a choked noise and did not seem inclined to comment further, so Raoul explained his reasoning.
...
Iason's engorged organ, briefly glimpsed when Riki's willing mouth was drawn off.
...
"I must ensure that the physical anomaly is manageable. It must not influence my actions as your therapist, or the experiment will be invalid."
Fuck fuck fuck. Raoul was obliquely telling Katze that he was unsure he could control his own dick.
Katze hyperventilated silently.
...
The tortuous shower that night, staring at the traitor erection that just refused to subside. The taste of defeat as Raoul had shakily powered-off choice circuits when it became apparent self-control alone would not suffice in resisting the urge for release.
...
Raoul concluded. "If I believe that I will create bias, I am afraid I will need to terminate the experiment."
He, wait, what?
No!
This was not how Katze thought the conversation would go. Blondies didn't admit weakness, even if it was present.
Katze had already guessed that Raoul sometimes showed more than platonic interest during their sessions. He didn't really mind. It came with the games they played.
Raoul was not pushy about it and his actions had always been appropriate. It was not as though he was flaunting his Blondie boner and rubbing off on Katze like Iason did.
Except now, Raoul was being honest...
Damn, that changed the game. Katze was not sure it was a good thing.
Katze chewed on his lip, fighting back impulsive denial of a truth he already knew.
It was so very... Raoul... to do the unthinkable and admit Blondie failure to preserve the scientific integrity of his work.
Shit.
Now that the cards were on the table, they needed to be played. Katze couldn't think, right then. He was too muddled with surprise and disappointment, irrational with remnant anger and longing.
Raoul's back taunted him, tall and proud.
Fuck.
Raoul was changing the rules.
Finally, Katze swallowed hard.
"Can I... Have some time to think?" He asked.
Raoul finally turned, a warm smile making his eyes glitter.
"Of course. It is necessary for me to reflect on this matter also."
The Blondie took one step closer, and stopped.
The golden curl of hair fell over his eye, as usual, and his wide lips were kind.
"I would like to touch your face again, if that is alright. I need more data to analyze before coming to a conclusion."
Katze was. Fuck.
Raoul was candidly asking permission, waiting patiently.
Fuck.
Katze burned, he...
"Yes." he croaked." Please."
Raoul removed his glove and carefully reached to cup Katze's cheek. His thumb stroked lightly and Katze closed his eyes, humming a bit.
He leaned into the touch. Raoul's hand was cool and steady, unlike his own burning skin and pattering heart.
The moment charged with tension.
Katze's mouth parted on hot puffs of breath and Raoul observed the reflex, aware of the fact that his mind was filled with thoughts of kissing.
Absolutely inappropriate, as was his erection that pulsed heavily. Hopefully.
Finally, when the need grew too acute to manage, Raoul dropped his hand. He curled it into a fist, savoring the warmth that had suffused the synthetic skin of his palm.
Katze straightened, looking dazed with his pupils dilated.
Parasympathetic autonomous reflex to arousal, Raoul noted. He allowed his own pupillary muscles to mimic the reaction.
Katze breathed a rough "Gods, Raoul. What..." at the sight.
"I am imitating human response." Raoul whispered, demonstrating by reducing the diameter of his pupils and then enlarging them again.
Katze looked shattered. The Blondie's green eyes were long-lashed and luminous; with the added element of apparent lust, even if it was fake...
"Don't." Katze told him sharply. "It gives you bedroom eyes..."
Raoul couldn't decipher if that was a good or a bad thing. The mongrel expression was unknown to him. His confusion must have been apparent, because Katze shook his head, auburn hair flying.
"Just don't." He sighed.
Katze gathered his coat closer and left the office. His first few steps were clumsy, but by the time he reached the waiting room, his stride was as gracefully brisk as usual.
...
Strange honeyed eyes, a sharp-edged gazed softened into something dark and alluring. Bedroom eyes.
...
Raoul watched from the window as Katze's small brown silhouette emerged in the parking lot, walking fast. So far below.
How harmless the human seemed.
Like Riki, Raoul supposed.
Except humans were dangerous to Blondies, Raoul realized now. He had seen the terrible change in Iason. Now it was his turn, it seemed.
He wondered what Katze would do about his admission.
It was a strange feeling, this not being in control. And with it came the realisation that, just as Katze had said, there was trust.
It was mutual.
Raoul trusted the strange mongrel. He would respect his wishes.
Raoul was pleased to have chosen honesty over manipulation in his relationship with Katze. He supposed he could categorize his reason for it as respect.
He did not think he would suddenly turn into a moping sap prone to irrational anger because he had given Katze freedom of choice. He was still himself, even though he was aware of his changing self-identity.
Just in case, Raoul moved to his desk and tried to objectivate strange abstract things like affection and hope in his notes. He kept a strong hand in his lap, resting over the ache, until it went away grudgingly.
Good.
No need to neurologically castrate himself tonight.
...
Katze did not sleep much that night.
Or the next one either.
Insomnia was nothing new to him.
Katze chain-smoked, working a bit. He stared at the artificial illumination of his screens until his eyes were gritty and his joints ached.
He went for a walk in the dead of night. The air was humid, foggy. It created an otherworldly atmosphere conductive to introspection; the light from individual streetlamps diffused into individual circles seperated by eery stretches of distorted shadow. It seemed as though all the usual city sounds were muffled, the smell of garbage strong. When he got back to his appartment, Katze's hair hung limp, clinging to his neck. It felt like the humidity had seeped into his bones and no shower could warm him.
Days were filled with work and coffee, trying not to let prickly irritation affect his judgement.
Mostly though, he thought. After three days, Katze had reached a conclusion.
It was not a conclusion that he liked. Katze knew why he felt disturbed and crappy.
Raoul had been, impossably, brutally, honest.
Katze... not.
It did not sit well with his conscious.
Raoul had admitted to being attracted to him. Katze... hadn't.
The more he thought of it, the more Katze realized the feeling was mutual. Once the idea had invaded his mind, it was impossible to ignore. Katze was tempted to see how a relationship with Raoul might evolve.
There was something there. Something unspoken, seeping through in shared looks. Raoul treated him like an equal.
If he only had been younger; if only Raoul had not been a Blondie... If only there had not been Iason.
Iason.
Katze tried to imagine Iason's reaction if he and Raoul had a tryst. Jupiter. Iason would be so ANGRY.
Daggers of ice clumped pointy and painful in Katze's abdomen. He paled at the imagined retribution. Someone would get hurt. All of them probably. And Jupiter's punishment of Iason, after, would most certainly mean the end of the First One's reign.
Fuck.
Fuck no.
Katze wouldn't be the cause of all that hurt.
Once that realization had cooled into resolve, it became clear to Katze that the only way to deal with the situation was to talk honestly with Raoul.
Just like Raoul had done.
Double fuck.
...
Katze spent a morning working himself up to it. Primed and ready to confront a Blondie, he barged into Raoul's lab late afternoon.
"Just a moment, Katze, if you please."
Raoul's was seated at a workbench, facing away from the door. But he was Blondie, so it did not really surprise Katze that he knew who had rudely entered his lab without knocking.
Watching those tumbled curls, Katze clenched his fists against an irrationnal surge of anger.
He blinked, tense and thrumming. He was ridiculous.
Raoul was not taunting him; he was not purposely seducing him. Katze was the one who had showed up at the Doctor's work-place, unannounced.
Katze blushed at his thought; it was too easy to attribute blame on Raoul, now that he had been the first to admit weakness.
The situation made it easy for Katze to ignore his own confused feelings. He could squash the vague longing to run his fingers through silky strands and feel superior. It would be so easy to pretend.
Easy was not for Katze.
It had never been.
Katze took the moment to calm himself. The lab seemed empty, in that echoey sterile way places of science did. Everything was neatly put away. Large pieces of equipment hulked on spotless metal countertops and an entire wall was taken up by cupboards. The smell of regeneration fluid lingered in the cool air.
Raoul straightened, precisely depositing a nano pincer beside what Katze thought was a micro-electron-gun. The Blondie carefully carried a little container of pinkish slime and set it almost lovingly in a temperature-controlled glass box.
The apparatus beeped melodiously as Blondie fingers flew over the keyboard; formulas flashed too fast on the screen for Katze's human eyes to follow as Raoul set the parameters. The gloveless hands were slender and graceful, and Katze squashed another surge of idle wanting.
He was ridiculous.
God.
Raoul finally returned to his high bench, facing Katze. His eyes crinkled in pleasure.
"Katze." The Blondie nodded.
"Raoul." Katze nodded too, hoping his face was as serene as the android's.
With Raoul watching him steadily from across the room, Katze began to sweat. Fuck.
"I... I have been thinking." He stalled.
"Good." Raoul smiled a tiny bit. "It is a rare quality among your species."
Katze turned bright red at the praise. Fuck, now he was all flustered. He fingered the hair over his scar, a nervous habit that endeared him to Raoul even more.
"You... have admitted to being curious." Katze started again." About... me. About... sex."
Katze's voice hardly stumbled. He was repeating facts just to make sure he had understood correctly before he ridiculed himself.
Raoul looked at the human. Slowly, his great head nodded.
"I. I." Katze hated himself for the words he was going to say. "The feeling is mutual."
He stared at green floor tiles until the weight of the Blondie's silence forced the red-head to peek up.
"I am curious too." He affirmed again. "You are... not like other Blondies. And you know how to modulate my body."
He expected Raoul to gloat or squeal happily or whatever. He did not expect absolutely no reaction at all.
Damn Blondies.
"Just... Say something please." Katze pleaded when he couldn't take it anymore. God, Raoul was beautiful. The pure white coat elongated his silhouette. Katze wanted to undo those shiny metal snaps; could imagine baring his smooth stomach until his fingertips traced over a massive Blondie dick.
"I know." Raoul answered gently. "I can smell the pheromones from here."
Fuck.
Katze swallowed.
Raoul's expression was unreadable, but when Katze dared look longer, his body language spoke just like everyone else's. There was too much tension in the way he stood. His deceptively calm face and white lab coat almost hid the tight curl in strong shoulders. God.
The only logical conclusion was that Raoul was affected by Katze's want.
Fuck, everything was slowing.
Katze felt like he was melting. Time, arousal, his thought processes; everything seemed sticky and slow.
This was bad.
The temptation to move over to the Blondie was strong. So strong.
This was really bad.
The potential was killing Katze. Now that the longing had been admitted, it was suddenly near-impossible to ignore.
God, Katze was thankful he couldn't have an erection. The last thing he needed right now was his body betraying him.
Raoul seemed impassive, but Katze couldn't help but wonder about the state of his dick. Iason was able to conceal erections without his face showing his torment at all. Was that a Blondie trait or just a Iason thing?
Fuck, Katze wanted to know.
Know how Raoul reacted to caresses and kisses. He would be an awesome lover, Katze was certain. Much more attentive and not as pervertly fascinated by pain as Iason. Raoul knew all the mechanics of sex from the countless Pets he'd made. But he didn't really know. He would marvel at the experience, god; Katze wanted to make him lose his fucking mind.
Fuck fuck fuck.
No.
Katze had to close that yawning chasm of possibility before they both tumbled.
Raoul was quiet, watching him struggle. Katze's voice was rough when he forced the words out, weird and grating.
"We can't."
Katze's heart cracked. There. He'd said it. He straightened his head.
"We can't." he repeated again, distraught.
"Iason..." Katze trailed off, incapable of finishing the thought.
Iason was Raoul's friend; Iason was Katze's master.
Any liaison between the two of them spelled disaster because of it.
Katze didn't dare look at Raoul. Blondies didn't like to be contradicted or refused. Angry Blondies were unpredictable.
And Katze had just snubbed him. Done the unimaginable; turned down the chance to establish a lover's relationship with a Blondie. Fuck.
Katze's stomach was in his throat. He wondered if Raoul would smack him. It seemed unlikely.
Katze kinda felt like crying, aware that the emotion was pure self-pity yet it was still sharp and painful. If only...
It was no use torturing himself with impossible self-indulgence.
Katze sniffed hard, finally feeling strong enough to look at Raoul.
The Blondie's mouth was soft and he seemed calm; the large lump that ached in Katze's stomach slowly eased.
Raoul pushed the golden curl of hair behind his ear in an automatic, thoughtlessly graceful motion. It was actually the exact opposite if his own tic, Katze realized.
"Iason is right to trust you." Raoul mused after an instant. "I have held it against him in the past. But he... is stubborn. Iason trusts in your loyalty. Rightly so. He is a lucky man."
Raoul pushed from his seat and moved closer. He stood a few feet from Katze.
Katze couldn't look away.
"There is no use in speculating on imaginary fantasies of a different situation. It is what it is. You are Iason's." Raoul's green eyes were warm and approving.
"I do not wish to cross him, and I do not want to think of the harm he might do to you in retribution. Iason is a lucky man."
"I never entertained the notion we could indulge." Raoul said. "Logic must dictate our conduct. I wondered though... I know it is not always the case with humans. I truly do not know how I would have reacted if you had dared to follow emotions."
Raoul's smile was almost wistful, if such an expression was possible for an Android.
Katze gasped at the sudden vision of Raoul indulging him if he had said yes. Fuck. A slow romantic seduction filled with long evenings together. Whispered secrets and forbidden kisses. Iason so taken with Riki he didn't notice.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Katze hated Iason. He hated himself for being able to remain objective. For once in his life, he regretted not saying "Fuck it!" to consequences. Damn his inability to place himself first. Katze's throat was tight. It was a good thing, because he was this close to totally losing his composure and screaming.
"Are you going to cry?" Raoul asked. He was not mocking. He sounded genuinely curious.
Katze laughed, a shaky sound close to hysteria even to his own ears.
"No." He lied.
"Are you?" He added a minute later.
The smile that curled his lips was genuine; so was the amusement in Raoul's face. A Blondie crying in heartbreak.
Ha.
"Maybe I wish I could." Raoul's voice was soft, the words forcing Katze to blink hard against renewed tears.
"Should I hug you?" The Blondie inquired.
Katze shook his head, still hovering between laughter and sobs.
The butterflies in Katze's stomach settled. The truth was out.
It hadn't been the end.
Their attraction was admitted, but it would not be acted upon.
And that was fine.
Good.
Katze would hold the nugget of potential in his heart. Maybe sometimes, if he was particularly melancholic, he would draw it out and wonder on things that couldn't be. On what might have been.
Clearly, a relationship with Raoul would be much healthier than the one he had with Iason; much less fraught with manipulation and power imbalance. Raoul seemed to regard Katze almost as an equal.
It was a precious gift; one to treasure in it's own right.
"Friends, then?" Katze asked, flippant.
Raoul pondered the question seriously. At long last he nodded.
"Yes. Friends."
Katze beamed at him, uncharacteristically.
"Well, friend Katze." Raoul said, and Katze couldn't even tell if he was mocking or if he relished the words.
"Shall we go for coffe then? The cafeteria has a most dreadful brew..."
Katze nodded.
A huge weight lifted between them. That was it, then. It helped that Raoul was Blondie. Katze didn't think a human would so easily dismiss complicated feelings and attraction.
Katze wasn't sure if this was a good thing, or a bad thing.
...
That wednesday, Raoul did not hold back the training.
It was gooooood.
When Katze emerged, breathless and hurting with lust, he blinked amber eyes at Raoul.
The Blondie was just as impeccable as usual. And yet... Katze thought he could see his discomfort, in the harsh line between perfect brows. Raoul smiled, and his eyes were dark.
"Okay?" Katze breathed. Fuck, his voice was scrapped.
Raoul nodded solemnly.
"You?" He asked.
Katze needed to get off, really really badly. But he was okay with that.
He nodded.
He wondered if Raoul would masturbate later. Probably not.
It was a shame, really.
Mostly out the door, he thought of something
"You should go to Iason, if you are curious about sex. He is very knowledgeable about it. And he is not in love with you."
Katze glanced back. Raoul sat, shocked.
Then his mouth curled and he nodded.
"I." The Blondie licked his lips. "I shall think on your suggestion."
Katze nodded and exited.
Good.
Raoul deserved more, even if he couldn't have it with him.
...
Ten days later, Raoul texted Iason.
Well. Moving on is always hard.
I'm a spontaneous writer who doesn't plan all that much. I have a general outline that pretty much says "Blondie sexual exploration." These guys are not human, nor do they want to be. And Iason tends to be heavily cruel. Should make for interesting times! For now I have no idea how long (or not) this arc will be. I do see a faint glimmer of Raoul/Katze on the horizon. So I guess there will be more character development and evolution.
As always, your comments feed my creativity!
xxx
FrenchCaresse