Phoenix

Ai No Kusabi is copyright The Author, June Magazine, June Video, and whoever produced the radio drama(s). Not me.
    All comments are welcome and will be responded to. All flames will be printed out and used to line my cat's litter tray.

There may be some readers who are unfamiliar with the story of Ai No Kusabi, so here's the background. (Those of you who are familiar with it may skip down to the start of the fic.)

Far in the future, the barren planet Amoi was colonised by a group of scientists. They built a supercomputer named 'Jupiter' whose AI became sentient and took control. Jupiter built a society which was extremely male-heavy and stratified, with caste decreed and indicated by the colour of your hair: from lowest to highest, black, red, green, blue, silver and blond. She genetically programmed her elite, the blond caste (colloquially referred to as 'Blondies'), to be superhuman with much higher intelligence and superior strength to the other humans. She also programmed them to be sterile. They are not supposed to (nor desire to) engage in direct sexual contact; 'Pets' (adolescent boys) are bred and trained to copulate with each other for the entertainment of the elite. The guards of the harems are called 'Furniture' and are castrated.

Some time in the past, there was an attempted revolution against Jupiter and her regime. Jupiter chose to simply release and erase all the records of the protesters. These new non-persons found themselves unable to get jobs or housing anymore, or even to leave (no RECORDS!) so they had to build their own city, Ceres, now populated by their descendants. A thriving black market soon sprang up to cater to their needs, but Ceres was, and still is in many ways, a slum. Its inhabitants are always looking for a way out; a job as a Furniture is considered one of the better ones. Alone of all the areas on Amoi, its inhabitants reproduce by the old-fashioned, natural method, rather than being genetically created by Jupiter and so they are referred to by non-Ceres as 'mongrels'.

Phoenix

Katse leaned back and took a deep breath. He fumbled his desk drawer open, picked up the cigarette box and worried out a cigarette, lifting it to his lips and lighting it in one fluid motion, all without looking down. Blowing out the lungful of smoke he'd just drawn in, he resisted the impulse to bury his face in his palms again.

The legitimate, grey and black markets had all been thrown into chaos with the death of Iason Mink. Say what you would about the Blondie, he had known just how to keep everything running, and how to keep fingers in every pie. Without his influence, everyone was waiting, following the old paths, waiting for new leaders to assert themselves.

Katse had arisen from the ashes of that white night, when Tanagura's leader and his lover had been killed, and had chosen to eradicate his grief in work. It had not been easy, but Katse didn't need easy; he needed hard, hard to force himself to think, hard to drive himself forward, hard so that he didn't have time to lose himself to tears and when he fell into his narrow - lonely - bed at night he didn't dream. He had wept out his grief during the end of the last night and dried the last of his tears watching the sun rise. To cry now would be to negate those tears.

He had promised Riki he would look after Guy, and both keeping his business afloat and ensuring that the hotheaded idiot who had caused all the destruction stayed alive had kept him sufficiently busy during that first week.

The second, though, had seen Guy begin to pick up his own pieces once more, which left a hole to fill. Katse had responded by working harder than ever.

The frenzy of activity he now engaged in yielded bittersweet fruit: six weeks later, he controlled all the illegal and less than legitimate trade that passed through the city-nation of Tanagura. His greatest achievement, hoped and longed for for so long, but more bitter than the smoke of Black Moon cigarettes because the one he worked for, who he longed to offer this prize to and finally win his respect, was gone. Iason was six-week-old ashes in the ruins of Dana Bahn, and Katse lived on.

But Tanagura herself still waited for her new master to come. Jupiter wept for her favoured son, and nobody had come forward to take control.

It was time, Katse decided, to take action.

Raoul wiped his eyes as he sorted through the piles of paper on his desk.

I can't believe Iason used to handle all this, all the time. I swear it breeds.

Again, the thought of his superior brought tears to his eye. He blinked to clear them, and picked up a report. It was about the latest batch of Pets released from the Academy.

Which brought the thought of Iason and his Pet to the forefront of Raoul's mind again. Damn that Riki! Overaged, a mongrel from Ceres, and not particularly beautiful either! Yet somehow he'd caught Iason's eye, captivating him for years and rendering him blind to the threats presented by both Riki's presence and his person. And now Iason was dead, because of that mongrel boy's past.

He signed the paper and picked up the next.

"You need a secretary."

Raoul jerked, hitting the back of his head on the back of the chair. It was fashionable, not ergonomic, and not padded either.

"Sorry," the strange voice came again, not sounding remorseful at all. "I came in my usual way; I should have known Iason wouldn't have told you about it."

Raoul finally managed to extract himself from the chair. Standing and turning, he confronted the stranger.

His red hair fell in uneven locks around his face, which had a long, thin scar running alongside one cheekbone. His body was whipcord lean beneath his trenchcoat and the way he moved bespoke both a great deal of fighting skill and practice at using that skill. His form and features were as delicate as a Pet's, but his vocabulary was of the streets.

For his part, Katse saw a young man, soft of form and face, with long blond hair and vulnerable eyes. Dressed in the first stare of fashion, he didn't look like a leader.

Looks can be deceiving. I certainly hope they are, in this case.

He smiled. It would not do to start this meeting with bad feelings. "I am called Katse. I'm guessing that you are Raoul?"

Raoul swallowed against mingled outrage and nervousness. A man obviously used to fighting who clearly knew much more than he did was standing in his office, introducing himself. He was not in control of the situation and he didn't like it. However, this Katse was making an effort to be civil, so good manners dictated he at least attempt the same.

"Yes, I am Raoul. Why are you here?"

"I control the illegal markets here in Tanagura. Iason and I had several professional arrangements and dealt with each other personally several times. I thought it would be appropriate to meet with his successor."

Raoul turned his face away from Katse, towards the window, unconsciously pivoting to face Dana Bahn. "I am not his successor."

"Someone must be."

"Jupiter has not-"

"Jupiter doesn't have any interest in Tanagura. If she picks a leader-"

"I'M NOT HER CHOICE!" The blond man's voice cracked on the last word. "Iason- Iason was! Not me! Compared to him, I'm second-best!"

Katse pulled out a cigarette, lit up and drew a deep breath of the soothingly rough blue smoke. He looked over Raoul, noting the shimmering of the sky-blue eyes, the shaking of the slumped shoulders. Poor boy, he thought, he's never been anythingexcept a follower. And he'll become my follower if I'm not careful. "You're right. But that doesn't mean she's going to do anything about this situation."

"Jupiter-"

"-probably has never been in this situation before. She'll wait and see what happens, while the vultures circle Tanagura-"

Katse noticed Raoul jerk, and decided to follow this datapack to its homefile.

"-ripping away her people-"

Raoul shivered.

"-tearing away her status-"

He jerked upright.

"-pulling away her institutions-"

Raoul swung back to face Katse again, a look of horror etching his perfect face.

"-unless somebody takes charge. As someone who has an interest in this situation, I choose you to be the somebody."

Raoul blinked. Then he realized what Katse had said. "WHAT? But-"

Katse sighed. "We can't afford to mourn Iason any longer, Raoul. Our nation is in danger. Iason ran everything, which was good while he was around. But now he's gone, and we are vulnerable."

"I don't-"

"Listen to me. That's better. We're stronger together than apart, Raoul. Take charge, I will support you."

Katse nodded, then swung on his heel, towards the door.

"Wait!" Raoul called. "Why-? Why do you do this?"

The other hesitated in the doorway. "Because you aren't second-best," he replied quietly, and then was gone.

Chapter 2

Raoul sat back in the comfortable auction chair and relaxed.

The first thing he had done, after that shocking visitation three weeks ago, was to follow Katze's advice and get a secretary. He smirked slightly, thinking of Adam's face when the pile of papers had been dropped in front of him.

"B-but sir, that's huge!" he had stuttered.

"I know," Raoul had replied cheerfully. "Do your best!"

His first visitation with Jupiter had not been nearly so lighthearted. Although it was for only a small matter - the weekly report, which he had helped Iason prepare several times - it had been the first time he'd presented it. Fortunately, Jupiter had not been giving him her close attention, although he did know she'd received and processed the report, so she hadn't noticed how nervous he was.

Katze was incorrect. Jupiter wasn't waiting to see what happened. Jupiter was mourning.

But now, it was time to look to the rest of the business of leading, which was as much a social as a working responsibility. It was time to see and be seen, to be entertained and entertain in turn, to see that the social butterflies of the Elite didn't find a reason to leave their flower-dancing - for as long as they danced, the rest of the world would look to them and be reassured.

Reassurance was very much on Raoul's mind.

Bidding began. The first Pet was a sweet-eyed boy, barely graduated from the Academy. He flipped his long wavy hair at the bidders, and with a roar of approval, the bids went up. He was quickly sold.

The female Pet who was up next generated a lot of interest, but Raoul's eyes wandered to the side of the stage, where the Pets to be auctioned were being kept. The curtain hadn't been properly drawn, and from Raoul's position, he could see much of the tiny holding room.

Many of the Pets were grooming themselves, whilst others were posing, attempting to find a good way to hold themselves. However, Raoul found his attention being drawn to two figures, half in shadow, at the back of the room.

The smaller boy seemed nervous, his limbs twitching, while the taller held himself confidently. The smaller almost wandered away, but the taller gently pulled him back. The delicacy of the movements, the obvious care for the smaller in the taller's posture, were almost tender in their silhouettes.

The two bent towards each other, two delicate poles directed by the artificial wind, clearly speaking. This caring, between two Pets, where rivalry was the norm and friendship a liability, was surprising.

Raoul glanced back towards the stage. After all, to ignore it completely would be rude. However, he wasn't interested in the redheaded boy standing before the dais, so he felt completely justified in looking back to the pair of Pets.

The taller was shaking his head. Whatever the smaller had just proposed, he clearly disliked. His head bent back down - and the smaller reached up, pressing a kiss.

The two stood there in shadow, head to head, hand to hand, lip to lip. The tension in their forms was easily read. Raoul could imagine very easily their situation; two - friends? allies? lovers? - about to be separated by auction and law, forever. Unless their Masters were friends, and decided their Pets should entertain them together. A very unlikely prospect.

The taller's arms wrapped around the smaller. Tenderly, so gently that the taller one likely didn't even notice, the shorter twisted his fingers into his lover's long hair, then stroked out his fingers, twisted them in again.

Raoul turned back to the dais. For some reason, this gentle caress, not even sexual, made him feel ashamed. He'd watched and been entertained by Pets for all of his life, seen them do hundreds of more titillating things to each other - why would one stroking another's hair have such an effect on him?

The next few parts of the auction passed in a blur, till finally a boy was brought up. The taller of the pair he'd witnessed.

Raoul lifted his hand and attracted a servitor.

"Purchase that one for my harem," he directed.

The bidding was light, despite the Pet's beauty; the boy stood straight and would neither prance nor pose for the audience, despite prodding. "Are you sure, sir?" the servitor asked.

"Yes. That one. Bid a hundred and fifty thousand credits for him."

As that was ten thousand more than the highest bid, the Pet was soon contracted to Raoul. The auctioneer moved on to the next, the shorter of the pair.

Bidding was as slow for the second as the first of the pair. He glared at the audience, his hostility a palpable barrier. When Raoul bid on him, he was as easily obtained for the same amount as the other.

At the end of the auction, Raoul stood to return to his office. Flitting among the daisies was one thing, but when one worked for a living, life among the carefree rapidly grew tedious. The wildly differing priorities of the two worlds ensured that the inhabitants of one could never be truly at home in the other.

"Sir?" one of his servitors asked.

"I'll be in my office until the usual time. Oh, and have my two new acquisitions prepared; they can entertain me over dinner tonight." And I might work out exactly what it is that disturbs me about them.

Katze puffed out a breath of smoke and blew a ring in it. Introspection grows old swiftly, but he couldn't help thinking of that little Blondie, Raoul.

It was quite amazing how, almost within a day of meeting him, Raoul had begun to pick up the reins. The business had received a sharp kick in a vulnerable part of the anatomy when the enforcers began to move in.

Katze smiled grimly. It was quite satisfying to have a rival again.

He contrasted the feeling with his memories of dealing with Iason's minions. It was different indeed, a totally different style. Iason's Goon Squad ran in and trashed everyone they found to a certain point, then arrested the now immobile and groaning criminals and hauled them off to the prison depot. Raoul's sealed off all the entrances, threw in a couple of sleeping gas grenades, and then pulled the comatose bodies off to be questioned. The ones who had come back had been sincerely terrified by the deliberate disorientation and the coldly clinical environment they had been questioned in.

Katze had sincerely cared for the health and wellbeing of Iason Mink. He had been impressed by the Blondie's discovery of his hacking, amazed by the extent of his reach. The boy Riki had been one of his best operatives; he had been one of the few worthy of Iason's regard. This was not to say that Katze was immune to envy's knife, but he had been surprised; he had not thought he had it in himself to give Riki the help he'd asked for or the position Iason had requested for him.

I appear to be a better man than appearances indicate. I'd better be careful, or it will go to my head.

Raoul, on the other hand, remained an unknown quantity. Katze was still haunted by the woe-filled boy he had originally seen, but the new enforcer corps belied that image.

It is clearly time for another conference with my respected opponent. If only for me to revise my estimation of him.

"Hello again."

Katze waited politely while Raoul finished choking on his coffee, suppressing a smile. A man had to take his amusement where he found it.

"I think I shall install a doorbell on that door," Raoul replied a minute later.

"That would be a waste of time," Katze commented. "You've changed." It was an understatement. There was a light in the young man's eyes now. Where once there had been despondency and grief, now determination stood within its stead. There still was sadness, but the hopelessness was gone.

"It happens. I was advised to take control and I have."

"It is - somewhat sudden."

"It's been three weeks."

"I didn't expect to come into direct conflict with you so soon."

And so we come to the heart of the matter. "You are almost the single chief of the black market. We would come into conflict eventually."

"Not necessarily."

"Oh?"

"If you had concentrated on treaties and politics, the delay would have been longer. We might have had time to come to an accord before we came to a conflict."

"And you're here to make that accord now?"

"No."

"Then why are you here?"

"To establish whether or not we can make an accord."

"If you're willing to talk, I'm willing to listen. But not to concede. This is my city as well as yours."

"That's good to know."

As Katze stood to leave, Raoul felt suddenly uncertain. "That's it? That's all you came to do?"

"I'm not currently prepared to negotiate. Neither are you. When next we meet, that's when we'll make the decisions."

"And this will be - when?"

Katze paused at the door. "This time, next week, here?"

"I can do that."

"Good. Be prepared." The door slid softly shut behind him.

Raoul sat, looking at it, for a long five minutes. Then he stood, and with sharp, jerky movements, left for his home.

Chapter 3

Raoul was not in the most alert of states as he entered his rooms. He allowed the servitor to remove his outer garment and guide him to his dining area without any thought to the man. All his attention was focussed on Katze and the future meeting.

How do I convince him I don't intend to compromise on leadership here? I'm in charge, at his request. I am not going to be his puppet!

A soft sound made him glance up. The two Pets he'd purchased earlier that day at the auction, that he'd ordered for entertainment at dinner, had begun their entertainment.

They were in a small nook to one side of the area, carefully designed and lit so that all sitting in the dining area could see the occupants, but anyone actually in the entertainment area couldn't see out of it. Raoul found that this often lessened the selfconciousness of performers - they couldn't see the audience so they didn't always remember it was there. This certainly seemed to be the case tonight.

The taller Pet was kneeling before the smaller, kissing him deeply and holding his head down, while his other hand moved in delicate, fluttering patterns over the other's abdomen. The smaller's soft cry had roused Raoul from his reverie.

The taller released his partner's head, moving down his body. The other flung his head back, crying out, "Tir... oh, Tir..."

The taller - He must be Tir, Raoul thought - lifted his head from the smaller's chest. "Why, Kirel," he purred, "I thought you enjoyed that. Don't worry, instead I'll do - this..."

Kirel cried out, half articulating words of mingled appreciation and protest at Tir's deliberate misunderstanding.

Raoul found himself caught again in fascination, staring at the two Pets as Tir plundered Kirel's willing flesh. One part of him recognised the actions as a relatively ordinary demonstration of pleasure dominance; but another part was intrigued by Tir's concentration as he pleasured Kirel's nipples, then began to lave his sternum.

As the smaller Kirel writhed under Tir's deft handling, Raoul felt as though he were wrapped in a cocoon with the two. Tir was concentrating solely on the boy who stood before him, an intensity in his actions that Raoul had never seen in any Pet before... but he had seen it before... where had he seen it before?

Iason, he suddenly remembered. Iason had that look, when he spoke to or of Riki - he was that intense.

Iason and Riki were lovers.

For some reason, the fact, intellectually accepted for some time, now truly impacted. Perhaps because of the Pets before him, Raoul suddenly saw how it must have been - the gentle touches, sweetly tortuous, the whispered words, intense in their impermanence, the intimacy, all the more powerful for being forbidden. All combined, the temptation was nearly irresistible, and for the first time, Raoul didn't blame Iason for his weakness, but began to understand the quixotic strength of a lover.

He began to imagine himself in the same position as Tir - perhaps reaching down to grip the cock of the man beneath him while whispering sweet endearments in his ear. The notion of doing that to Katze, the juxtaposition of soft words and cruel handling, appealed in a way he'd never anticipated...

Katze?

Surely, he was thinking of a Pet? Even Iason had never stepped that far beyond the boundary, limiting his activities to Riki, a Pet which he had control over. Not absolute control, of course - Riki had not been tamed till he was adult and no animal, if it spends its juvenile years in the wild, ever becomes completely tame. But Iason had desired Riki's wildness as much as anything else about that unusual, unique Pet whose existence was such a flagrant exception to every accepted standard.

A Pet was safe - he could be taken, kept, tamed, as Iason had with Riki. Katze was a completely different case. He held power and position - he couldn't simply disappear without a serious disruption to the peaceful running of Tanagura. Raoul couldn't agree with that.

Besides, Katze was not just the chief of the black marketeers, either. He displayed the manners of the inhabitants of Eos, while wearing the garments of a Ceres mongrel. He spoke in the tones of the elite while moving in the graceful patterns of the trained fighter. Whatever he is, it is more than he has said. In the words of the philosopher, 'I am all that I state - I have not stated all that I am'. I won't fall into that trap.

But the mental image of himself with Katze still wouldn't go away.

Katze smiled proudly, even as he gunned his way down the freeway. Various other drivers made their displeasure with his flagrant disregard of road signs, speed limits and general driving etiquette known with a variety of horn beeps, foul language and obscene hand signals.

They were all ignored as Katze sped toward Ceres through the evening traffic. While he roared back towards his own territory, scattering mayhem, chaos and minor traffic infractions in his wake, he grinned. In its way, he supposed, his original plan - to create the leader the city needed - had succeeded admirably.

Living with that leader is going to be a different thing altogether.

But why was he musing on Raoul's clear blue eyes? He had plans to make, options to examine and initiate or discard, a partnership to build. There was no time to muse on how the Blondie's height and broad shoulders made his own respectably-tall body seem almost as petite as a Pet's, or how the blank mask Raoul's face had smoothed into seemed so out of place on his charming features.

He is, in his own way, more beautiful than Iason ever dreamed of being...

Katze stamped down on the treacherous thought hastily. He had a meeting to prepare for.

Chapter 4

Raoul sat and watched the clock shred his nerves, ticking away the seconds till his meeting with Katze.

I can't believe I'm so nervous, he thought. This is my territory. He's reacting to my actions. He took a deep breath. I know what I'm doing, he thought, trying to convince himself.

"Good afternoon."

Raoul relaxed. He must be getting used to Katze's silent entrances.

Katze, for his part, was slightly piqued. He'd been looking forward to Raoul's discomfiture, for both amusement and profit, and this calm thwarted that. Oh well, it simply meant the man was becoming easy in his skin - and that was no bad thing. Tanagura can have only one master, he thought obscurely.

"Good afternoon," Raoul responded. He felt strangely disappointed at the unremitting politeness he and Katze used toward each other. The mannerly greetings, the formal phrases - the saccharine shields he and Iason had used to hide the daggers within treaties and the contempt they felt for the foreign diplomats. He felt obscurely irritated using them with Katze. But there was nothing else to use. "Are you prepared?"

"Indeed. And you?"

"I am prepared to negotiate."

Both looked at each other.

The silence burnt between them.

Go on, speak, Katze willed Raoul. Give me something to respond to! He stared, unconsciously memorizing the long, lean body, the wide shoulders that tapered down to a trim waist, giving an impression of a too-thin body with not enough flesh on his bones; studying the long sweep of yellow hair, darker than Iason's, the dark sapphire of his eyes sad and rich and bright. He is the most beautiful man I have ever seen, Katze thought suddenly, knowing it for truth, and felt a slight ache at the thought that he no longer felt so about Iason. Iason had been harsher in face and more symmetrical in form; nobody would feel that Iason was too fragile for responsibility. Iason had a very masculine attractiveness - but, Katze was forced to admit, none of Raoul's androgynous beauty.

Raoul, for his part, took note of Katze's intent study. Not goingt o break the ice, are you? he thought, and eventually cleared his throat. A shock tactic is called for. "For starters, I require that the black and grey markets withdraw completely from Tanagura proper."

"That is unacceptable!" Katze replied, shocked.

Raoul shrugged. "Then start talking. We neither of us have time to waste."

"Agreed." Katze drew a chair up to the desk and laid down a small disk, a match for the one Raoul already had on the desk.

While Katze sat down and began loading up the files from his disk onto Raoul's monitor, Raoul gave him a covert examination.

Shorter and more slight than Raoul himself, with clear grey eyes and fine red hair, chopped off raggedly. A face smooth and delicate, marred only by the scar snaking down one cheek. Blank and unmarked, this face; it was a face used to hiding secrets. Raoul frowned; he disliked not being able to read his opponents.

"I had thought this..." Katze began. Raoul turned to the monitor.

An hour later, Katze honestly wanted to ball up one of the printouts and throw it at that Blondie bimbo's head.

Well, maybe that was too uncontrolled.

He definitely wanted to do something, though!

Raoul would not compromise on the rates of tariff, nor on the police patrols. And he kept demanding a lessening of the number of infractions and petty theft. He didn't seem to want to understand that the thieves in question were in many cases kids attempting to eat!

Katze blinked and regretted - again - his earlier study of Raoul. Now he was aware of the Elite - his beauty, his intelligence, his strength - and concentrating was proving difficult indeed.

Raoul honestly wanted to drop a paperweight on Katze's foot.

Well, maybe that was too juvenile and uncouth.

He definitely wanted to do something, though!

Katze would not compromise on the amount on petty infractions that were edging up the statistics. Granted, they made up 90 percent of the black market, but still a reduction in the rates wouldn't cripple anyone! And he kept demanding a lowering of tariffs! He didn't seem to want to understand that taxes are a necessary part of life.

Raoul moved till he was standing beside Katze, leaning over the monitor. "See this graph," he said, pointing. "As you can see, the tariffs are important for the maintenance of the public transport services..."

He tried not to remember his earlier review of the way the man had looked, the delicacy of the form contrasting with the strength of his body and will, and instead concentrate on the business at hand. Now was not the time for sexuality...

Raoul bent forward a little too far, and his body brushed lightly against Katze's side. He gasped as his chest brushed lightly - too lightly, not lightly enough - against Katze's arm. The contact gave rise to electricity that Raoul had never felt before, scorching across his skin and igniting a fire through his nerves that he didn't understand.

Katze had been aware of Raoul's proximity from the moment the other man had bent over the desk. Then he had leant over a little too far and brushed against Katze. The shock that ran through him - from his arm, of all places - had caused him to lean back and suck in a deep breath. He recognised the fire; he'd last felt it the night Iason had discovered his hacking, the night he'd got his scar, the fire that an ex-Furniture like him was never supposed to feel.

He swivelled his body up, away from the desk, just as Raoul bent down towards him, and their lips met.

Wide blue eyes stared into wide grey eyes; cheeks coloured and paled; and lips brushed, pressed, almost parted but pressed back again. Tongues stroked, entwined, danced, retreated and advanced.

Which took whose arms? Which drew who up? Neither knew; neither cared. All they knew was the blazing flame that had suddenly lit itself between them, the electric shock that somehow no longer shocked them but rather enhanced the heat, as they gave in to their unrecognised desires with their first, clumsy, passionate kiss.

Chapter 5

Katze could barely think as the flames Raoul was so innocently engendering ran down his nerves. A kiss wasn't meant to burn like this...

Raoul wasn't thinking at all. This action - a kiss - was rarely performed by the Pets, so rarely that he could remember barely more than the name. To the observer, so many other acts were so much more titillating. A kiss didn't involve much...

No, he thought, as Katze's lips slipped across his cheek, down his throat. A kiss is everything... He flung his head back, instinctively pushing his tightening groin against Katze's. Katze groaned against Raoul's throat as his body responded. A hard-on? How? he thought, dazed.

Raising his hands to cradle Katze's chin, Raoul reclaimed possession of his mouth. And this time, it truly was 'possession'. Katze groaned against Raoul's lips, mouth parting as he felt Raoul opening his own. Each's tongue entered the other's mouth, tasting and testing the unfamiliar region.

Katze felt his shirt part as Raoul's hands, amazingly deft, found the fastening at shoulder and sideseam. His eyes drooped shut as his flesh was bared to air and touch. The other man's hands, moving in delicate patterns up and down and around his back, left fiery trails that seemed to blend within the fire of the kiss, matching and raising its heat.

Barely conscious of his movements, Katze began to jiggle against Raoul, rubbing his unclothed torso against Raoul's chest.

There was something about the sensations that began to crawl through his veins, dark and rich and frightening. Give in, it seemed to call, surrender, submit...

Katze's eyes snapped open, feeling Raoul grasp his hips and pull him closer. As he stiffened, Raoul's eyes opened in turn.

Frightened grey pools stared into tranquil sky blue. How can he be so calm? Katze wondered frantically, clutching at the edges of his own composure. He was ice, he was ice, he was always calm, and he never surrendered.

"This is not what I came here for," Katze finally whispered, believing he was speaking the truth. He reached for his jacket.

Raoul shrugged. "I didn't either." Reaching out, he deftly snagged the garment out of Katze's hands. "But I know you enjoyed it."

Katze raised an eyebrow. "I did. But I came for business, not pleasure."

Raoul's voice dropped. "We would not be the first to mix the two."

"And it was to their cost." Katze returned.

"Or betterment," Raoul replied, dropping the jacket behind his desk. He reached out, catching Katze's waist and pulling him close. "Such associations do not have to be destructive," he breathed, angling Katze's head up.

"But-"

"You know, I could take you," Raoul murmured softly, ignoring Katze's voice. "I could simply bend you over this desk here, and take what I want. What you want. Or wanted, a moment ago."

Katze swallowed. The imagery, of himself spreadeagled helplessly while Raoul bent over him, holding him down, while his cock moved within, was incredibly arousing.

He had never thought himself capable of arousal. It had never happened before. Not even when he had hacked all those files. His body was thrumming and his groin tight with a reaction entirely new, yet older than time.

"You still want this." It wasn't a question.

"I don't know what either of us want," Katze temporized, hiding beneath his familiar ice, attempting to regain familiar ground. Maybe next time...

Ice is translucent, Katze... I may not see you clearly, but I still see you, Raoul thought. He was half-amazed at himself. Katze wasn't a Pet, to be used and discarded. He wanted...

I want what Iason and Riki had. The thought hung in his mind, clear and true. I want this 'love', whatever it turns out to be. And I want it with Katze. I don't care that he's a mongrel - I don't care what Society will say! I DON'T CARE!

And that thought was unexpectedly uplifting.

"I want this," he said, still not releasing him. "I want it with you." For some reason, he couldn't say 'love'. He frowned, twisting around without releasing his grip, so that Katze's back was to the desk. "And I want it NOW."

Katze's eyes widened. 'I want it with you'? He's crazy. I want a crazy man.

"Say it, Katze," Raoul murmured softly. Too softly. "Say you want this. Or not. Say it now."

Katze's lips thinned at this reminder of the dark side of this man, his aite, apparently in all ways. I want him, but nobody orders me. "And if I say 'no'?"

Raoul smiled, malice and lust a cruel mix on his lips. "I'd change your mind."

Katze lifted an eyebrow. "Maybe I shouldn't have decided to say 'yes' then?" he mused, seemingly to himself.

Raoul answered by shoving Katze back onto the desk, falling down upon his chest and kissing him again. Pinning Katze's wrists above his head with one hand, Raoul dealt with Katze's pant fastenings with the other.

Between the kisses and Raoul's unconscious manhandling in his most sensitive region, Katze's lust, not that it had ever really gone away, flared again.

He thrust his hips up against Raoul as soon as the pant snaps were undone, not even bothering to kick the garment away from his legs. Finding a mound against his own aroused cock and recognising it for Raoul's own, he deliberately rubbed against it, his naked penis against Raoul's clothed.

Breaking the kiss, Katze flung his head back. Raoul didn't ignore the opportunity, nuzzling down the cords of Katze's throat.

Katze mewled, fighting for his composure. Raoul smiled at him, and traced his collarbone with his tongue.

A soft cry rent the silence. "Don't be cruel," Katze begged, unable to believe he'd said those words. Where had his silence gone?

Raoul smiled at him, a thing of pleasure and satisfaction. "Cruel?" he replied. "You think I'm being cruel?"

"Yes," hissed Katze, as Raoul traced Katze's nipple with a fingertip.

"Then," Raoul whispered softly, "I'm going to be torturing you." He dropped his mouth to Katze's chest, hearing Katze's soft scream. "Keep that up," he added, "and I'll gag you."

Raoul kissed his way down Katze's body, delighting in the reactions Katze tried to suppress, stripping slowly on the way.

Finally he was facing Katze's cock. Stroking the underside, he found his path unobstructed. The line from the hidden chrysanthemum of Katze's anus to the little eye of his penis, weeping so copiously, ran straight and true, without testicles to mar the line at all.

Curiously, he ran his fingers around the area. Smooth - it must have been done years ago, probably when Katze entered puberty.

A soft groan attracted his attention up, and Raoul looked to Katze to see the man was suddenly tense.

"No," Katze whispered, "not there... please..."

"Why?" Raoul murmured, brushing his fingers over the area again.

"...oooh..."

A droplet of the clear musky liquid Katze's cock was weeping splatted onto Raoul's foot. He smiled again, not so innocently.

Reaching for and snagging the bottle of handcream from the desk, he slicked his fingers, then swiftly impaled Katze on one. Katze shrieked.

"Remember what I told you about that gag," Raoul warned, moving his finger in, out, around, touching a lump he found on the inner wall...

Katze stiffened suddenly, giving a soft, hoarse cry.

Ah. Another sensitive spot. He must remember that. Raoul stood, stroking the cream onto himself. Enough play.

Katze couldn't breathe as he felt Raoul move himself between his legs. He desperately tried to suck in a breath as his chest clenched. He'd seen this before. He'd even helped prepare others... but all the watching in the world could not prepare him for the sheer sensation of another man's cock pushing against his body. Relax, he commanded himself, it's better and easier if you relax... but his body wouldn't listen to his mind, his heart kept beating too fast as his nose scented hot, musky Raoul, he couldn't think with Raoul's hands moving gently between his legs, stroking the place where his balls used to be, the place that was still so sensitive, ignoring his cock that stood so hungrily as he gently pushed Katze's legs still wider.

Then a sensation of fullness - Too much, this is too much - as the head of Raoul's cock finally pushed into him.

Raoul felt the world spin as he finally pressed into Katze, releasing them both from anticipation. Katze cried out and pressed down on him, but Raoul gripped Katze's hips and pushed in still, slowly but steadily, until he was fully sheathed. Then he stopped.

Katze opened his eyes when the deep, relentless pressure within slowed. Looking up into endless, hot-summer-sky blue, he smiled. And clenched his muscles around the welcome intruder. Think I'm going to completely surrender, does he?

Raoul looked down at his lover, to see the storm-cloud eyes that swirled as mysteriously as the wind begin to gleam silver. What was this strong-willed beauty up to now? As he felt the warm passage constrict about him, he realized. Two can play this game, Raoul thought, as he began to play with Katze's cock in earnest.

Aching movement met gentle touch, as the two moved slowly, growing used to each other and discovering the dance of love for the first time. Raoul's shallow thrusts encountered Katze's own, each quickening as he met the other's need.

Katze, ironically, surrendered to the pleasure first. Facing the double stimulation of Raoul's diabolically-moving fingers without and his cock's powerful movements within, he couldn't suppress the building pleasure. When Raoul tipped his chin up with his free hand and kissed him, it exploded.

Raoul, for his part, was not far behind; a combination of the sweetness of Katze's mouth, the hot wetness between their bodies and the involuntary clenching of Katze's body around his own pushed him into his own climax.

The pair collapsed, insensible, onto the desk.

Katze felt a hand stroking gently down his arm. Opening his eyes, he watched Raoul run his hand back up his arm again, watching his own movement with hooded eyes. Raoul lifted his face, and the two regarded each other.

Katze prided himself on his ability to read any person, but Raoul's sapphire eyes defied definition. The glimmering emotion within was something Katze had never before seen.

He really should say something, do something, but Katze didn't want to move. He wanted to lie here forever, watching Raoul watch him with those beautiful gemstone eyes.

I love him, Katze thought dazedly. I never thought love would feel like this.

"Nor did I," Raoul murmured back, shocking Katze with the realization that he had said the thought aloud.

"This isn't allowed," Katze said softly, swallowing against the knowledge. And tomorrow you will do your best to forget it.

"I don't know that anything truly worth having is," Raoul replied. He stretched, sitting up. "When will you next come to me? Or should I go to you? Before or after I next report to Jupiter?"

Katze blinked. "Jupiter knows of this?"

Raoul shook his head. "No - at least, I don't think so. She's never shown more than passing interest in the Elite's lives - she only spoke to Iason against Riki because it might interfere with his effectiveness as her servitor."

"So..."

"So as long as I am a good little servant, she won't stop me from seeing you." Raoul smiled grimly as he said it. "And, speaking of our meeting - we still haven't sorted out those tariffs yet."

Shaking his head, Katze also rose. Having sex one minute, doing business the next. Only a Blondie.

As the months passed, rumours began to circulate.

Comptroller Raoul would secrete himself in his office for hours each day, admitting no-one. Comptroller Raoul was insistent that no meetings could be scheduled for the third or fifth afternoon each week. There was a Pet whom Comptroller Raoul would only permit himself to witness performing; no, Comptroller Raoul performed with the Pet; no, he was physically using the Pet, having sex with him as his predecessor Iason Mink had with his own mongrel Pet. No, it wasn't a Pet at all but another of the Elite...

Raoul laughed privately as Adam brought him each rumour. As long as he never heard Katze's name, he decided, he would not worry.

He never did.

And nobody ever talked about the fourth afternoons in his week, or how they were officially meeting-free, if they even noticed.

"Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be...."
                     Robert Burns, 19th Century English poet

aite: literally "the one whom I must face". In differing contexts, it may be construed to mean an opponent, a lover, a rival, a partner, or a combination of these.