So, this porny one-shot wants to grow into something with more plot and character development. I'm letting it go where it wants.
Still rated M. Over 18 for mentions of sex and violence. Still un-beta'd. Blablabla.
The soft hiss of the pneumatic door made Riki's stomach flip with anticipation.
Yes!
Iason and Katze were back!
Yes! Yes! Yes!
Riki might have wriggled a bit in excitement. At least he didn't go full on happy-dance, proof that he had maintained a modicum of dignity.
He was so pathetic.
Schooling his features into a bland expression, Riki hopped down from the balcony wall and headed back inside.
His eyes widened at the vision that greeted him.
God, Iason was gorgeous. Tall and elegant, that unbelievable hair framing a perfect figure. And Katze... A sinful promise in his suggestive Pet costume.
Even from halfway across the house, Riki could read the tension radiating between them.
Fuck.
Riki's body continued to walk, but he experienced a strange lurch inside. It felt as though his stomach got left behind for a few seconds, then slammed back into place as a rush of adrenaline made the Pet light headed.
The expression on his Master's porcelain face screamed trouble for his Pet. Iason's jaw was set, the narrow slit of his eyes glinting icy blue.
Oh Goddamn.
Riki knew that look on his Master. Restraint so harsh it would, it needed to explode somehow. Usually with devastating consequences to his Pet.
Riki's stride faltered at the feel of a sloppy drip of lube reaching his thigh when his asshole pulsed in response to his Master's silent need. He could feel his high cheekbones burning red already, a shaky anticipation stringing his nerves high.
"Riki." Iason proclaimed, carefully toneless. "Bed."
Yes... finally!
As Iason turned towards the hallway, Riki realized Katze was left standing in the foyer, hunched on himself and uncomfortable.
The Pet stopped, hesitating. Iason's nostrils flared in frustration as he looked back over his shoulder.
His Pet needed to obey tonight.
Iason was in no mood to tolerate insubordination. He simply needed to relieve this terrible tension.
And Riki wanted it; Iason could smell the reek of sex on him halfway across the room, even through the cloying spice of shower gel.
"But..." Riki's voice lit fires in Iason's belly and a gloved hand fisted at the onlaught of passion. He observed the dark hands gesticulating between the three men and knew his Pet was asking "What about Katze?"
Indeed, what about Katze?
Iason could not think at the moment, mind obnobulated by base desires. Katze was too delicate a situation to mess with cavalierly.
"Later..." He intoned.
Riki was going to argue; he wanted to waste time speaking of things. Iason could see the stubborness spilling out on his features.
Jupiter.
Iason couldn't find the patience to deal with complications right now. The Blondie had determined during the strained ride back that postponing the inevitable was preferable to a brash decision.
Of course, Riki wanted to make things easier on his friend. Loyal brat. He was correct in his assessment that ignoring Katze right now would certainly create self-doubt and hesitation in the dealer.
However, despite all his good intentions, Riki's judgement was flawed. He simply did not possess knowledge of all the factors at play.
Iason's self-control was stretched so thin it was beginning to tear at the edges.
The Blondie's calculating mind was not fooled by his inflated ego, which whispered he should play with Katze anyway. He knew his limits. Iason knew he would be incapable of restraint once he was physically engaged. Riki could, and would, take whatever Iason dished out. He would even beg for more, perversely fascinating creature.
Katze was... An unkown variable. Fragile. And virgin.
He needed careful handling.
Heck, he deserved it, for all his years of loyal service!
So there was no way Iason was letting him join Riki and himself in sex.
Not in the state he was in.
Better the sting of perceived rejection than rough handling that might crack the red-head's flimsy pieced-together serenity.
Gods, the temptation to ignore consequences and indulge was strong.
Two pale humans, bent and spread before him... The image had tormented the Blondie all night. Iason contained a shudder, grinding his teeth against yet another surge of arousal.
No.
Iason blinked, succesfully keeping most of his turmoil from marring his peaceful expression. At least he hoped he did. Riki appeared thoughtful, staring at his Master in a way that was quite inappropriate. He rubbed the back of his neck, causing the loose shirt he was wrapped in to slip down a brown collarbone.
Delectable.
Breakable.
Almost child-like in appearance with his Master's too-big clothes.
Iason was not fooled. Riki was hardly innocent. His brown eyes twinkled with compassion and he seemed to correctly guess Iason's agony as the silence stretched.
Perhaps the mongrel could deal with Katze?
Decision made, Iason pivoted and stormed to his bedroom.
"You have three minutes." The Blondie haughtily threw the words over his shoulder.
Smugly satisfied, he left the two humans together. Let them do as they wished in the short interval.
After this last delay, Iason was getting off.
...
For a second or two, both mongrels were frozen, staring down the quiet hallway where the Blondie's imposing silhouette had disappeared.
Coming to life in a sudden rush of movement, Riki hurried to Katze. Grabbing his hand, he pulled the dealer into the living room.
Three minutes, fuck.
Riki had no doubt that Iason would not grant him one second more. And that he would pay dearly for every instant he kept his Master waiting. Somehow.
A quick glance behind him showed Katze following his rapid lead surprisingly easily in the stilleto boots. Lean thighs flashed gracefully and the tall man hardly wobbled.
Katze allowed himself to be steered to the couch and made to sit, while Riki hovered over him.
Riki's worried eyes flicked to the empty hallway. The Pet could feel his Master's silent call, which was ridiculous.
It was true anyway.
Riki felt the tug of an invisible cord leading straight the bedroom, slowly winding tighter. Every passing second increased the itch to run back to Iason.
Recalling the carefully veiled intensity of his Blondie's expression, Riki forced himself to concentrate on Katze. Three minutes. He could wait three minutes. Riki wasn't even sure if he meant Iason or himself. Both, probably. What a night!
" God, what did you DO to him? " Riki hissed
Katze shook his head defensively. His formerly neat curls were a tousled mess, sticking out every which way in wavy strands. It gave him a younger appearance, softening his severe angles.
Discarding the dark mask, Katze answered quietly.
"We didn't do anything. It was almost boring. We got on that ship without a problem; those so-called security guards never questionned anything."
He stopped to arch an eyebrow when Riki suddenly gasped, taking a spastic half-step backwards. Riki motioned for him to continue, though sudden tension now poured through his stance.
"The dealer was a fat self-sufficient idiot." Katze's mouth twisted in disgust and his hand groped his chest unconsciously. Realizing what he was doing, Katze gave a little derisive smile and lets his fingers come to rest on his thighs.
Habit.
There weren't any cigarettes in his coat pocket.
Because he was not wearing a coat.
He was wearing a motherfucking corset.
Riki was too preoccupied to laugh at his faux-pas though. He was beginning to sweat, and his chest moved with rapid pants. Movements jerky, Riki walked to the black leather jacket that was bunched over the far armrest.
Fumbling through his pockets, he chewed on his lower lip while Katze continued his explanation.
"He made us watch a Pet show. Some blue abomination with three breasts getting pounded by a huge muscular monster with skin like rock..." Katze frowned. Raoul's genetically-altered lab-grown mutants, created strictly for sex, made him uncomfortable.
At least Riki was a true human, even if he was a Pet.
Riki.
Katze could tell that he was fighting his Pet calling right now.
His face was tense, squinty-eyed refusal to acknowledge the pleasure that made him squirm.
Slim hips twisted anyway as he handed Katze his pack of cigarettes.
Katze crossed his legs, sinking further into the couch. The stockings slid pleasantly against each other, a sensual slither running up his spine.
Katze was finding that watching Riki refuse to give in to Iason's manipulation was oddly fascinating. There was potential for him to get aroused by this play, for sure. His fingers twitched, a suppressed urge to touch his cock and feel it grow. Sometimes, like now, Katze couldn't decide if his inability to be physically aroused without direct stimulation was a curse or a blessing.
The castrate was suprised to feel the perverse longing to watch Riki break. He had never entertained such fantasies before. And from the look of things, it might actually occur fucking soon.
A barely audible groan escaped Riki's throat and he bent over, gripping the arm rest. His dark hair fell forward as his head dangled, fingernails turning white where he braced himself.
Fucking Iason, controlling his Plaything with the cock ring... from the other room.
Reminding him. Three minutes. By his Master's gracious leave only.
Damn, Iason didn't play fair.
He didn't need to.
Pleasure swamped Riki, a blazing wave building in his quivering thighs and belly. It would be such a waste to cum like this, alone and shivering.
No.
Don't think about cumming.
Focus.
Katze.
Three minutes. Two now.
Riki's voice was rough as he asked " So it's done then? The Pirate is dead? "
Katze shook a cigarette from the pack, watching how Riki rocked from side to side restlessly. His eyes were fevered, half-hidden by his bangs, but they were still lucid. Katze was impressed in spite of himself.
Kid had spunk. And was goddamn stubborn.
The side light from the foyer swept thick shadows over half of Riki's face, an angular slice of light and dark. It was fascinating, almost enough to distract Katze from the question. He was beginning to understand Iason's obsession with the mongrel.
"The Pirate isn't dead; not yet, no. It wouldn't do to have him die while Jupiter's Chosen was with him! We didn't go in there, guns blazing and screaming for justice!"
Riki whimpered, and nodded. He wasn't thinking.
Well, obviously, he wasn't thinking. His brain currently pulsed in his dick head.
Katze slipped a cigarette between his pale lips, then fingered the lock of hair into place over his scar.
"I implanted him with a tiny intra-dermal nanobot cartridge. Just pressed it to his skin. He never noticed. Now that it's activated, the microscopic machines will begin multiplying in his blood stream. Multiple organ failure within fourteen days."
Katze's dispassionate tone would have sent a chill of fear into Riki -except he was too distracted to properly process it.
The pleasure in his dick was morphing into pain.
Phantom fingernails dragged furrows along his shaft.
Iason warning. He was impatient.
Time was running out, three minutes over or not.
"But Iason is..." Riki jumped as the constriction increased, an invisible fist squeezing his balls.
"He... You..." Riki couldn't continue, hips curling forward in very real discomfort. None of what Katze described explained how worked-up Iason was.
Katze calmly lit his cigarette... He was smoking inside the house! Fuck! And on purpose too, Riki could see the quiet challenge in his eyes. Not that he was going to say anything. It was Iason's house, and anyway he had more pressing concerns.
Like the electric shocks that now pinched randomly in his crotch.
Katze seemed a bit disappointed Riki didn't take the bait, but he answered his confused glare anyway.
"Iason and I... We didn't do anything. I just knelt on the floor by Iason's chair during the show, and he played with my hair a bit. That's all." He took a deep drag on the smoke, eyes hooding in pleasure while still holding Riki's sceptical gaze.
He didn't add "Why would Iason want to do anything more with a broken old ex-Furniture?"
Riki opened his mouth to respond, but what came out was a grunt.
Fuck, now it felt like a white-hot spike was slowly pushing into the tender spot between his balls and ass.
Riki's left hand clutched his thigh and he doubled over in agony.
He should be bleeding right now.
The spike inched deeper into his groin, it seemed, crackling flashes of pain that brought tears to Riki's eyes.
Katze blew a cloud of smoke at the ceiling, ignoring the wheezing sound that had creeped into Riki's breathing.
"I wondered, earlier. Did you feel anything? From the ring?"
Katze's words seemed to come from far far away, echoing down a twisting tunnel.
Something about the long-distance range of the cock-ring.
Pale as a ghost, Riki didn't answer. He had given up on pretending to be okay, gripping the ache between his legs with both hands. He managed a quizzical eyebrow frown in Katze's direction to indicate he didn't understand, sinking to his knees with a thready moan.
For a long minute he writhed there, convulsing in pain. Just as Riki was beginning to think he might actually faint, ears ringing and dark spots dancing in his vision, all sensation stopped.
A glorious absence of pain that let him gulp grateful lungfuls of air. Fuck it, he couldn't take a second wave like that!
Katze's words rang loud in the blessed void.
"When he took his glove off, Iason played with the ring a bit. Twisting and rolling it. We were off-planet though, so I just wondered if you'd felt that?"
The words sank into the void like a stone into a lake. Disappearing with barely a plop before the ripples of shock started spreading outwards, outwards.
Riki's head rose, too much white showing around inky pupils.
He repeated, in a voice strangely grey with lack of expression, "Iason took his glove off."
Flustered, Katze stuttered through an explanation, stomach flipping. " Yeah, yeah. During the show. To run his fingers through my hair, Iason..."
Realization of what he was saying smacked him hard in the face.
"Iason took his glove off." Riki whispered it again, unbelieving. Trying to comprehend words that made no sense.
Silence descended as they both absorbed the implications.
Katze couldn't seem to breathe, all the air sucked out of the room.
Iason took his glove off. To touch Katze.
"Oh." A shaky little cry, and suddenly Riki was moving.
Pushing to his feet, he stumbled a few steps towards the bedroom. Abruptly, he about-faced and collided with the couch. Blindly reaching out, he groped in Katze's direction, catching his elbow as it happened. Patting the shocked dealer absently, Riki licked his lips.
"Stay." A searing whisper. "I have to... You can't. Iason! Just... Don't go! 'Kay?"
And then he was off again, a stumbling run. Katze watch Riki careen off the doorway, hardly slowing. Clumsy urgency kept him moving with flailing off-balance strides.
Hurryhurryhurry.
Bed.
Now.
Iason was way worse off than Riki had initially assessed.
His Master needed him.
And Gods, Riki was ready.
...
Katze sat frozen as the full impact of his words sank into his bones.
Iason took his glove off.
...
Iason took his glove off.
Fuck, how could Katze have been so blind? He was so stuck in his own insecurities he hadn't even realized the vital importance of the detail.
Iason had taken his glove off.
Iason never took his gloves off.
Especially not in public!
As his Furniture, Katze had witnessed how the Blondie usually kept his gloves on, even during sex!
And now he had taken his glove off. To better indulge in touching him...
In front of a whole room of witnesses.
It pretty much amounted to a human dropping his pants and jerking off in the street.
Such a breech in decorum was unheard of from the First One.
Oh.
Holy.
Gods.
Katze let his head tilt back, lolling against the couch.
Closing his eyes, he recalled the evening with perfect clarity.
Iason had effortlessly commanded attention as he sat, regal, in an ornate chair with gilded feet. The sweaty Pirate had seemed even more grungy in his wrinkled suit by comparison. Katze hadn't really had to think before sinking to his knees.
It was expected from a Pet.
And it was easy, so easy, too easy! to slip into the role, just following protocol.
The floor was hard and cold beneath his bare knees, and Katze didn't really pay attention to the action happening in the center of the room. His attention was fixed on his Master's proximity. Never before... Katze had inhaled subtly, filling his lungs with the warm scent of Iason.
Iason's hand had reached for him, pressing his pretend-Pet's head to a hard thigh.
Katze bowed obediently, even if it put a bit of strain on his neck. He was too tall for this to be perfectly comfortable, but he really didn't care.
He savored the strong muscles under his cheek, drank in the smooth feel of Iason's dress trousers.
It was the most contact Katze had had in years, and he stored the sensations greedily.
Iason's hand had traced his ear first, barely a whisper of touch. Gloved at first, fingers had carefully arranged the tumbled locks of auburn hair. Distracted touches that smoothed the tension in Katze until he slumped bonelessly.
As the Show progressed, Iason had grown bolder.
Strong fingers dragged; digging deep into the thick mane, tangling in pleasant tugs. He massaged Katze's scalp, sometimes pressing fingertips to his jaw or the pulse point in his throat.
It was good, so good.
Katze remained immobile, eyes slanting like a cat under the heavy petting.
He felt loose, yet coiled tight too.
Iason's fist had inadvertently clenched into the fine hair at his nape, a sharp tug that tore a wet gasp from Katze before he could catch it.
Fuck.
This was when Iason had removed his glove, oh so casually.
Floating in a lust-filled cloud, Katze hadn't really thought much about it.
Iason was tense beneath him, lounging with his thighs spread. Katze didn't dare look between to see if he bulged his pants-front.
Instead, he closed his eyes and floated in the dreamy pleasure of Iason's naked fingers confidently carding through his hair.
The Blondie did the tugging thing a few more times, random sharp bursts of cutting sensation Katze couldn't anticipate. It made him shudder every time, and he could fucking feel Iason's satisfied smirk.
Then the show was over.
Iason curtly bowed his good-bye and Katze pressed the miniature needle to the trafficker's leg when meaty fingers groped at his ass. Iason stiffened, allowing the affront just long enough to let Katze do his job, then he was yanking him back.
The cool recycled air of the corridor had sent a shiver over the mostly naked dealer.
Dragging himself back to the present, Katze was surprised to see a long thin curve of ashes clinging perilously to his cigarette filter.
Well, fuck.
Cupping a hand underneath, Katze hurried outside through the door Riki had left open in his haste.
Squashing the cigarette butt under a pointed boot, Katze stared at the twin moons in wonder of the revelation. Long fingers rose to press into his cheek. Fingertips crept over the familiar jagged bumps of his scar. Then slid unbidden to the hinge of his jaw, an echo of the burning brand of Iason's longing touch.
Riki was right.
Iason hadn't dumped Katze in the foyer because he didn't want him.
Iason had dumped Katze in the foyer because he wanted him too much.
Well, fuck.
I swear to God I intended for sex to happen this chapter. I did. But then, feelings happened and stuff needed to be set in place for later and Katze needed a break-through or he'd have run and just... Ugh. Sorry. These guys are all over the place and they want more than just insertdickintohole. Anyway, things are progressing, sorta. Love ya'll!
xxx
FrenchCaresse