Chapter 4
All warnings and disclaimer from Chapter 1 apply to this one too.
xxx
The smell of cigarettes is in the hot air.
"I wish you would quit," Iason says.
"Look who's talking," comes the lazy reply. Katze's eyes are half-closed; he has a vague smile on his lips, and smoke curls from his nostrils.
"It is bad for you." Iason half turns, his brows raising as he regards the redhead with a mix of amusement and annoyance.
"Nobody in Ceres lives long enough do die of lung cancer."
"You could try."
"I don't want to." Katze drags himself up and climbs out of the car before he starts cooking in the heat that beats down relentlessly. There is no point turning on the climate control with the doors open – it would be like trying to cool the universe – but he is loath to be cooped up in the cabin. He takes the fag out and wipes his sweaty face with the front of his tee that clings dank and slightly smelly to his skin, then he takes a last hungry pull and drops the butt. He is startled when he feels Iason's touch, gloveless, on his upper arm, trailing to his elbow before falling away.
Iason pulls him close. "How about a little discipline?"
"You can try that with Riki," Katze says, glancing up to meet Iason's gaze, then his lips in a kiss that tastes of dust.
"Riki..." Iason draws back and lets go. Turning, he links his hands behind his back and gazes out into the desert. "He understands his place, yet he is still struggling against it. Why?"
Katze steps close and embraces him from behind, linking his hands in front of Iason's stomach and resting his chin on Iason's shoulder. "Habit," he says, his eyes sliding half-shut again, his body growing heavy as he relaxes against Iason's broad frame.
Quickly, Iason lays his hand on top of Katze's, clasping him firmly. "Your habits..."
A smoky laugh. "Have you ever done it in the car?"
"What?"
Katze presses his lips against Iason's ear, breathes in the scent of Iason's hair, and tells him what he means, his urgent whisper growing hotter as Iason's grip on his fingers becomes crushing. There is a tiny, tight break, before Iason whips around and seizes Katze's shoulder to push him back against the car, tear open the door, and shove him in.
Katze sprawls out on the spacious rear seat and laughs as he watches Iason try to undress without hitting the ceiling of the car all the time. Iason scowls, then gives him a thin-lipped smile. "We still have to go to Ceres."
"Yeah." Katze unzips his slacks. He kicks them off, folds his arms under his head and waits for Iason to settle over him. Iason braces himself, his face hovering over Katze's, his hair dusty-blond around them. The climate controls start buzzing madly. Katze presses his knees in Iason's flanks. "You'll have to drive back yourself," he says huskily, sweat sheening his face and pooling in the hollow of his throat.
"Why?" Iason asks distractedly, letting his focus slip deliberately. He doesn't want to know now, not really, not with his mind settling between his legs and anticipation strumming in his blood.
"I got business there," Katze says, dragging him down and close, until Iason's weight is pressing the air out of his lungs. Katze lets go of a long gasp, and then they are one; he melts into Iason, throwing away reason and sanity for a few slivers of eternity.
When they're done, and Iason has restored his decorum, he picks up exactly where they left. "You tend to disappear. Is it not enough that I have to contend with Raoul's concerns? Do you have to lend them substance?"
Katze slides onto the seat behind the wheel and waits for Iason to settle, next to him this time. "You know I'll always come back."
"Do I?"
"You put the tracer on me." Katze turns the car back, the engine a barely audible hum, the cabin growing pleasantly cool as the air conditioning kicks in. A cloud of dust rises as the car rises and begins to hover on its anti-g-cushion.
"Is it enough?" Iason enquires.
Katze slants him a narrow-eyed gaze, then shakes his head. "You feed me, you give me stuff to play with, and from time to time you allow me to mark my territory. In a word, you're good to me, so I come back."
Iason's face has flushed a deep, angry red, and his neck is rigid, his jaw set firmly as he stares ahead at the road that takes them back to Tanagura. "You have certain talents," he says, and his voice – cool and calm – belies his expression. "But nobody is irreplaceable."
Katze smiles. "I am. That's why you took me to Eos."
Iason turns away and gazes out of the window, at the fleeting yellow and white-blue of desert and sky. "That was a long time ago..."
xxx
Katze sits behind the computer in the office and watches a number of data streams converge, fizz past his eyes that stare unblinkingly. He is smoking in long, lazy draughts. He looks up when Iason steps through the door and pauses, and then he gets up and offers a small bow. "Your Excellency…"
Iason turns the computer screen and considers the data, then he glances up, his eyes meeting Katze's golden gaze. Attentive beyond the cool smile, freckles like specks of sunlight on the pale skin. Iason takes a few heartbeats to admire the fiery hair and the perfect proportions of Katze's face. He thinks that Katze looks much younger than his nineteen years, his boyish face an odd contract to his deep voice, but it's his eyes that are most startling. Old eyes. An old, young body – barely marked but thin and whipcord tough, and confident in a way that makes Iason wonder what Katze has experienced already.
And as stillness spreads between them, Iason has reasoned enough with his doubts. "Sit," he says.
The redhead obeys, squashing his cigarette out on a dirty saucer.
"I told you that I am tired of coming here," Iason says, folding his hands behind his back and stepping to the window. "It's inappropriate and time-consuming. And the place is unsuitable for you."
Katze smiles. "It's a sea of opportunities."
"Is that so? What are you then, a big fish in a small lake or small fry in that sea you're talking about? You are making more money for that old man than he'd ever get for any of his deals."
Katze shrugs. "I like it. I'm my own boss." A small, sly smirk. "The cat that gets the fish."
"What is this, confidence or attitude?" Iason's eyes glitter as he turns to size Katze up. "Come and see me in Eos." He watches the effect this blunt, rather forceful offer has on the redhead, and is disappointed when he reads nothing in those white features.
"How would I do that? I wouldn't even get past the main gate," Katze says dismissively.
"I'll arrange a temporary pass for you."
Katze blinks. "Isn't that… I mean, isn't this illegal?"
There is a small pause, then Iason shakes his head, just once. "There is an option."
Katze's brows rise in an expression of doubt and suspicion.
Iason reaches into his pocket and puts a wide grey metal cuff onto the old desk. He has been carrying the thing with him since the day he first asked, and now he is determined to bring things to a head. "Pretend," he says softly.
Katze stares at the cuff, then makes an effort not to look back at Iason directly. He stares at the window instead, Iason's tall shape in the periphery of his vision. Red flecks start blooming on his cheeks and neck. "I'm not a toy. Or one of THEM."
Iason watches him with interest. "Comfort, money, pleasure. It can be a good life. What is it you don't like?"
"I'm okay here. And I like my kit."
"I promise," Iason says, "that I won't keep you against your will. No shows. And I won't injure you." He doesn't need to do this, he could take Katze, buy him, confiscate him at a whim, and they both know that, yet he bargains; curious, entertained and mildly irritated at the resistance he encounters.
"What do you want with me then?"
Iason has expected this question, and all the others, and he has rehearsed his reply that comes smooth and cool. "Company. Someone who can handle my affairs in a competent way."
"Affairs?" Katze shakes his head. "I'm not sure…"
"I've had enough time to watch you running this place."
Katze reddens some more. "I'm not-"
"I've done some research of my own." Iason cuts in. "You're smart, and you've got guts trying to hack into my system."
The colour drains from Katze's features at once, leaving him ashen, his lips white, but he says nothing, knowing that denial won't help. Instead he is trying to keep his nerve, gauging the situation.
Iason lets him sizzle for a moment before saying, "I trust you can cope with the work I have. I am offering you a chance. Can you afford to throw it away?"
Awkwardly, Katze clears his throat. "Why... I mean, why would you trust me?" Especially now. They both think it, they can see it in each other's face, until Iason takes a deep breath.
"Katze," he says, with an undertone of puzzlement. As if tasting the name. "Sometimes, I like to gamble. It keeps things interesting."
Katze says nothing. He just stands there, stonestill, as if that could make him invisible.
"Well?" Iason breaks the odd tension between them.
Katze winces. "How would I get back?"
"You're haggling with me?" A small smile tugs at Iason's lips. "I'm not prepared to wait. And I cannot see how you can afford to refuse."
Katze smoothes out his tee, his yellow eyes flicking absentmindedly past Iason, considering the room, the desk, then back to Iason, locking on a strand of silverblond that has fallen forward, over his chest. "You promise?"
"I promise," Iason says, and he means it.
xxx
On to chapter 5.
