Naomi Brooks For Love of Etarin

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An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com




For Love of Etarin

ISBN 9781419914294
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
For Love of Etarin Copyright © 2008 Angelia Sparrow & Naomi Brooks

Edited by Briana St. James.
Cover art by Syneca.

Electronic book Publication January 2008

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written
permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-
3502.

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal
copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is
punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/)

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales
is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

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F

OR

L

OVE OF

E

TARIN

Angelia Sparrow & Naomi Brooks

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Angelia Sparrow & Naomi Brooks

Chapter One

Ruvane hated working Flistikkan worlds. The species liked worlds that were too

hot, too dry and where the gravity was just a little too strong. On top of all that, the big

reptiloids thought they were better than humans in every respect. Yet, they’d never

developed space travel and lacked a necessary part of the brain to do the navigating

themselves. The Flistikkans had spread through three systems as passengers and

colonists, paying well for others to do their spacing. They had to, since their attitudes

drove most pilots off after a couple runs.

Ruvane didn’t mind the attitude so much as the physical discomforts. He’d been

sneered at by better than the big gray lizard who was looking down at him right now

across the restaurant table. He unzipped his flight-suit a little, sweating. Flistikkan

public buildings, even the ones that grudgingly accommodated off-worlders, were

never air-conditioned. It made the local residents sluggish.

“Very fast, very good. Your pay.” The Flistikkan handed over a credit-chip with the

amount they had agreed to before Ruvane left. He double-checked it just to be sure the

lizard hadn’t skimped on his payment. Reassured, Ruvane stuck it in a zippered pocket

with his own credit-disk. “I have cargo. Call in day to discuss.” The lizard left, without

paying the bill.

Ruvane paid the tab, deposited the credit-chip at the local branch of his bank and

went back to his ship to think. Yeah, he could take another run. He spent the evening

going over his baby girl, making sure her engines were in good shape and everything

was ready to lift. The next day, he called Skrit.

The Flistikkan invited him out to the estate outside the city. Ruvane, were he

another sort of man, would have left the place with pockets bulging full of ill-gotten

booty. An honest streak a parsec wide saved all the myriad little treasures belonging to

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For Love of Etarin

his employer. He looked at the rich hangings, the sculptures, the paintings, any one of

which would have paid half again the cost of his ship. The place was done in alien

stonework, with wood paneling. Flistik boasted no trees higher than Ruvane’s waist.

He had an uncomfortable evening of it, aside from the general physical aspects. He

was the only human not in a slave collar. The only human seated at the table, before

Flistikkan food he knew he could not digest. The rest of the humans brought the food,

and cleared it away, subject to the kicks and jeers of the lizards. Then the entertainment

began.

A beautiful dancer in a long blue robe came out and began. As the music started,

the dancer dropped the robe to reveal a male body clad in a deep blue loincloth. Ruvane

couldn’t stop watching, couldn’t have stopped if the world had exploded around him.

The youth was the most beautiful he’d ever seen, all long black hair and liquid dark

eyes. His skin was sallow under the lights but Ruvane suspected it would be almost

golden with some sun. His movements were lithe and sensual, not frankly sexual, just

teasing enough that Ruvane wanted to find out how an overtly sexual move would

look. He wanted to know how the dancer would look gyrating to the newest, filthiest

pop music from his homeworld.

The Flistikkans let him get through one song. As he began the second, they began

their own form of entertainment, pelting him with refuse from the table and trying to

make him miss a beat or a step so he could be punished for their amusement. He gave

them no satisfaction and completed the second song. During the third, Ruvane’s

employer pulled him aside to negotiate his next job.

Ruvane was grateful for the interruption. Although the dancer’s perfection seemed

almost scornful of the lizards’ harassment, he couldn’t help worrying he would have to

watch that beautiful boy being beaten or worse. All he wanted was to know what the

dancer’s mouth tasted like, how his skin felt.

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The deal—not Ruvane’s best, because of his distraction—was struck that he would

go to Carmathi and pick up several tons of foodstuffs. He didn’t tell the Flistikkan he

was charging triple rates.

“You do fine work. As reward, stay tonight and choose from toys.”

Ruvane’s mouth was dry. He tried to feign disinterest and choose carelessly. “Oh,

he’ll do,” he said with a half stifled yawn, pointing, seemingly at random, at the dancer.

The Flistikkan gestured for the dancer to come closer. “Take good care of guest,

boy.”

The short youth bowed to his master and then looked up at the big, blond, bearded

pilot with curiosity. “Yes, Master,” he said in a high, sweet voice.

“Take him to blue bedroom. He leave in morning.”

“Yes, Master.” The boy tucked a long delicate hand into Ruvane’s own broad and

calloused one and led him out of the room. Ruvane felt the softness of it, unlike his own

calloused and scarred paw, and the firmness of the grip. The boy was strong. He

smelled faintly of exotic wood, and Ruvane couldn’t wait to bury his face in that hair,

and taste that golden skin.

In the blue bedroom, Ruvane sat on the bed and started taking off his boots. The

boy came closer and dropped to one knee. He grasped Ruvane’s boot and tugged it off.

A naughty smile crossed his face as he ran one light finger over the bare arch. Ruvane

bit his lip to avoid laughing. The dancer removed the other boot, and rose as gracefully

as he had gone down.

Ruvane lounged back and looked at his bonus for a few minutes. “Come here.” As

the youth drew nearer to him, Ruvane looked him over even more. “You are the

prettiest thing I’ve seen in a long time. What do they call you?”

“Etarin,” the dancer said, “or boy.”

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“Etarin. That’s pretty.” Ruvane drew him to sit to his side of the bed. “It suits you.”

He ran a slow hand through the black curls that tumbled over Etarin’s back, and

stroked his long face. Very gently, he leaned in for a kiss.

The little dancer returned it with enthusiasm, his mouth open and sweet. Ruvane

tasted him for a very long time, enjoying the soft slickness of his cheeks and the tongue

that danced almost as gracefully as the rest of the man.

“So beautiful,” Ruvane said softly, pulling Etarin into his lap and wrapping his

arms around the dancer. “So sweet.” He held Etarin and kissed him, getting harder by

the minute, unwilling to let the delicious tease end too soon. He rubbed his beard over

Etarin’s neck and cheeks, and grinned when the dancer shivered. He stopped playing

with Etarin’s hair and started opening his own shirt.

Etarin broke the kiss and stared at Ruvane’s thick blond chest hair. Ruvane realized

that he hadn’t seen body hair on any of the human slaves, and Flistikkans weren’t

mammalian. Etarin petted it gently, seeming unsure if his action was wise. Ruvane

merely smiled and took his shirt off. He kissed Etarin on the temple.

“You furry as a kitkin,” Etarin ventured. “Is nice. Better than scales.” He touched

Ruvane once again and found one of Ruvane’s nipples in the hair. Ruvane hissed as he

stroked it. “I not break,” he smiled when Ruvane ran a gentle hand over his shoulder.

“Come on, pretty thing. On the bed. It’s been a while. Tell me if I hurt you.” Ruvane

stood up, setting Etarin on his feet. He unfastened his pants, then sat back down to pull

them off.

The dancer was on the bed in an instant, face down, ass high. Ruvane pulled a small

tube of barrier lubricant from his belt-pouch. It would make his entrance easier as well

as protect him from any diseases or alien parasites Etarin might have. He tried to be

gentle, but the curvy golden ass, slim strong legs and fall of gorgeous black hair had

him too aroused to take any more time for foreplay.

Ruvane managed to enter Etarin with something more dignified than a lunge, but

he set a selfish, fast pace, just wanting the edge off his hunger. He’d savor the next

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round, playing with the dancer and making it slow and sweet. He came quickly, after

less than ten strokes, placed a kiss between the boy’s shoulders and pulled out to clean

up.

He came back to where Etarin hadn’t moved on the bed. He lay down beside the

dancer and kissed him slowly. “You okay?”

Etarin nodded, saying nothing. Ruvane kissed him again, touching him gently. He

didn’t like Etarin’s sudden silence. It spoke of pain or shame or something unpleasant.

Ruvane needed to reassure him, to see the sexy, naughty smile Etarin had given him

earlier.

“Eunuch, huh?” Ruvane ran a large hand down Etarin’s body, his green eyes

unreadable. “Damn shame. One as pretty as you should be having lots of kids.” He

pulled Etarin in for a long, slow kiss. “I’m always better the second time.”

“Just not hurt.” Etarin turned his face into Ruvane’s shoulder and kissed his neck.

He clearly didn’t like talking about his alterations. Ruvane knew such things were

sometimes done by slave holders to preserve a slave’s early adolescent beauty well past

its time.

“No, I won’t.” Ruvane nuzzled his neck in return, tasting the sweet skin, the

smoothness, the lovely shoulders. “I can’t. Not a sweet thing like you.”

Etarin shifted under his hands. He giggled a little as Ruvane’s beard rubbed against

his nipples. “Sorry. Ticklish.”

“It’s all right.” Ruvane did it again just to make him giggle and then rewarded the

giggling with a light suck at each nipple.

Ruvane took his time, letting himself rise to the occasion. He kissed and touched,

learning all the shapes of Etarin—the strong arms, the flat stomach, the firm curves of

his calves. “So very beautiful. Just want to kiss and taste you all over. Want to touch

you, see what you feel like,” he said, kissing at Etarin’s knees, running his tongue

behind them, and listening to Etarin giggle, then dropping a kiss on the delicate ovals of

his kneecaps.

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“I yours?” The dancer sounded heartbreakingly hopeful. Ruvane shook his head.

“Oh. I wish.” Ruvane took a lick of the slim, circumcised penis that slept between

Etarin’s legs. He’d never seen a cut one on a live man. He’d seen pictures and holos of

course, and he’d heard of some systems that required it of whores, but he’d never

encountered one. “Just for tonight, beautiful boy.” He sucked at Etarin’s cock, trying to

see if he could wake it, enjoying the naked feeling of it.

“All that matter,” Etarin sighed. “You handle me like treasure.”

“Your master thinks you are. And so do I.” Ruvane kept his big hands very careful

as they spread Etarin’s strong thighs. He kissed the old scars where the boy had been

cut, then moved back up to kiss the slowly hardening cock. He sucked at it for a while,

until it was hard, and then moved down to kiss the scars once more. He worked down,

aiming for the black kiss. Etarin shuddered at the first touch of his tongue on the

opening.

Ruvane knew many men did not like doing this, a thing he’d never understood.

Ruvane liked doing it, and he loved the way he always felt like he was melting—as if all

his bones had gone soft and his skin was taking mild shocks that made it tingle—when

it was done to him. He just hoped Etarin was enjoying it like he always did.

Ruvane’s tongue teased light and quick. He licked a bit, then thrust in, tasting his

own residue as he penetrated Etarin’s tight ring of muscle. A low moan told him Etarin

was enjoying it. He licked one finger and brought it in with his tongue.

“More, please. That wonderful,” came the gasp from above him. Etarin squirmed,

unable to stay still under the pleasure. Ruvane smiled and pressed the finger and his

tongue in farther. Etarin tasted of clean skin and sweat and the barrier cream and him.

When he moved away, he licked a second finger and slipped it in to join the first.

He returned to long, slow licks of the dancer’s cock, matching them with thrusts of

his fingers. “What will bring you off, beautiful boy?”

“Hand? And mouth? And patience?” Etarin’s sweet voice was tremulous and

unsure. He’d obviously never been asked this before.

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Ruvane smiled up at him. “I got plenty of that.” He returned his attention to

Etarin’s cock, sucking and licking, nibbling and taking it deeply into his mouth. He

added a third finger and stretched, trying to find the sweet spot common to humans.

Etarin twitched and gave a low cry when Ruvane found it. The cock in Ruvane’s

mouth hardened even more and he took it to the root, sucking hard. He stroked at

Etarin’s prostate, small and hard to find from lack of stimulation, and pressed with his

tongue over the whole length of Etarin’s shaft.

At last, Etarin came with a soft groan, and stretched like a sleepy kitkin with more

moans. Ruvane swallowed the small issue of seminal fluid and moved up to kiss him.

He stroked the lithe body that arched beside him, smiling.

“So beautiful, little love. May I have you again?” His hands and smile were still

gentle. This time he would not be rough.

“Whenever you want. I yours.” Etarin smiled.

“I’m sorry about being rude the first time. It’s been a while.” Ruvane kissed him

again, unable to get enough of that mouth. Something about the dancer’s taste made his

head spin, made him hungry for more kisses. “Would you like to be on top for this

one?” He played with Etarin’s lovely dark nipples, feeling them peak under his fingers

before lowering his mouth to suck at one again, teasing with his tongue. “I like being

ridden.”

Etarin nodded. “I be on top.” Ruvane settled onto his back and Etarin used the

barrier cream before kneeling over his hips. He placed the tip of the big man’s large

cock at his entrance and relaxed enough to let him in. He perched there for a moment

and in a fit of daring leaned down to kiss Ruvane.

“Oh babe.” He kissed the dancer deeply and moaned as Etarin took him in

completely. “Such a little thing like you to take all of me.” Ruvane ran his hands over

the slim hips, powerful thighs and strong, slim arms as the dancer rode him. He played

with Etarin’s nipples, making them crinkle up into hard points and ran light fingers

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over Etarin’s slim shaft, which did not wake again. He buried them in the black

waterfall of Etarin’s hair and pulled him down for a long kiss as he finally came.

* * * * *

Ruvane made the next hop in record time. He might hate Flistik, but Etarin was

waiting. Ruvane thought about Etarin all the way to Carmathi and back. He pushed his

baby to the limit and as far as he safely could beyond it. She handled like a dream even

at the red-bar, moving under his guidance as she would for no one else. He had to set a

speed record. He wanted Skrit, the Flistikkan, in his debt enough to have the dancer

again.

Etarin was so beautiful. During the course of his five-hour sleep shifts, the youth

danced in Ruvane’s dreams, golden and black, all big eyes and a starless cascade of

space-black curls. In his dreams, Etarin laughed above him, riding his cock, and

moaned below him as he sucked and probed, his fingers buried deep. If it had been

anyone else, he’d have laughed and said it was just lust. He tried telling himself that.

And repeated it, unbelieving, when he found himself digging for an extra pillow in the

storage crates or sizing someone’s abandoned clothing and imagining it on Etarin.

Etarin was a custom-made item, bred for beauty and talent, castrated to keep him

young-looking and beautiful. No way Skrit would let him go. Not for what Ruvane

could pay right now. But he was working steadily, saving money and he’d have the

beautiful boy, one way or another. Somewhere in the long hop, he decided Etarin

would be his, no matter what methods were needed.

Most of all, he wanted to make Etarin come and sigh and smile that naughty smile

at him. He’d checked the databanks on Grania when he’d gotten back. He’d learned that

the fluid was made in the prostate and seminal vesicles. Only the sperm were made in

Etarin’s lost testicles. Ruvane did a little homework on whether mild testosterone

treatments would help Etarin’s arousal level.

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Finally he touched down on Flistik. He’d called ahead and Skrit’s men were waiting

at the cargo bay. He opened the belly hatch for them to unload and took his baby

through a nice, slow post-flight, checking everything twice. She deserved it after that

run. He’d blown a powerfold housing.

While the lizards unloaded him, he tinkered, replacing the housing and trying to

get Grania’s engines in perfect tune again. She was fine by the time they were done.

Their leader approached.

“Skrit like you ride back with us. New job for you, yessss.”

“Sure. Just give me a second.” Ruvane threw his dentifrice and a spare pair of

underwear into some of the many pockets on his jumpsuit and set the auto-response

code on his ground-cycle, as he always did. If he had to make a getaway, he’d have

transportation.

The lizards were silent on the ride out to the estate. Ruvane asked no questions, but

watched the rocky scenery flash past the ground-car. Skrit was in a good mood when

they arrived.

“You do well, little human. Fassst ship. I think I have you do more work. Your

pay.” Again a credit chip on his bank. “You like my boy again? Or you like different

one?”

Ruvane shrugged. “The boy will be fine. I think I got him taught what I like. Hate to

go to all that work on another one.”

“Practical.” Skrit gave a hissing laugh, then had Etarin brought in. Ruvane was

careful to show no need or desire for the dancer, but rather a pleased disinterest. “You

have until tomorrow morning,” Skrit said.

Etarin led him to the blue bedroom again. Ruvane waited until the door was shut

and locked before sweeping the youth into his arms and kissing him madly. Etarin

clung to his neck, kissing back with a matching desire.

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“I missed you. All I could think of was getting back to you.” He kissed the boy

again and held him at arms’ length to look at him a while. “So gorgeous. I feel like I

walked into some kind of temple and the idol came alive for wanting me.”

Etarin blushed, giving his golden skin a rosy glow. “Only boy.”

“A very beautiful one.” Ruvane ran a calloused thumb across Etarin’s soft lips.

Etarin’s tongue slipped out and licked at it. “Too pretty to be real. I keep thinking

you’re going to vanish while my back is turned.” His stomach picked that moment to

rumble.

Etarin smiled and patted it. “I serve you food now? Know it long trip.”

“You got anything off-world humans can eat?” Ruvane wasn’t sure if the humans

here had developed a Flistikkan digestive tract. Humans were the most adaptable

species in the galaxy, and his own body was proof of that. When his world had been

settled, billennia before, his people had been human norm. Now, Cythorians had so

many internal differences from main-stock humans, they were almost their own species.

Etarin’s smile broadened. “Many thing. I get best food.”

“That’d be nice. It was a long trip.” He didn’t let Etarin out of bed, or even out of

his arms as the dancer rang for the other slaves and had a small feast delivered to them.

He fed Etarin—managing to eat plenty himself—enjoying the way Etarin’s sharp white

teeth closed on pieces of fruit or meat, the delicate swipes of his tongue as he licked

Ruvane’s fingers clean.

Ruvane, full and in a merry mood, rolled a round berry down his fingers for Etarin

to catch in his mouth. He followed the berry with a kiss, licking the sweet-tart juice

from Etarin’s lips. Feeling silly, he rolled one from the bridge of his nose down to the

tip, and Etarin caught it, giggling. Finally, Ruvane set the mostly empty trays aside, and

drew the dancer close for more kisses, letting them turn lingering and heated.

“I wish you stay.” Etarin’s wistful voice tugged at Ruvane.

“Wish I could, Beautiful. You know, I’m gonna make this next run in record time

again and ask for you again.”

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Most spacers picked up their payment and left. Ruvane could see the hope in

Etarin’s eyes that he would not be forgotten or cast aside for a different interest.

Ruvane made love to Etarin, long and slow, taking his pleasure, and making sure

the dancer received his own enjoyment. It took time and patience, as well as a few tricks

he’d picked up from a Travinkan whore in the art of sucking cock, but Ruvane had

plenty of incentive where Etarin was concerned.

“I always remember this…” Etarin sighed as he drew near his climax. “No other

ever take so much time.”

Between licks, Ruvane mumbled, “I’ll give you something better to remember next

time. Come on, beautiful boy. Come for me.”

“Is no better,” Etarin protested. He arched up into Ruvane’s mouth with a loud cry

as he came soon after.

Ruvane licked him clean of the few drops of fluid. “So very beautiful.” He began

kissing his way up the slim body. “So sexy. Can you stay all night?”

“I yours until morning.” Etarin caught his breath with a shiver and snuggled close

to the large spacer.

Ruvane kissed him. “Then sleep in my arms? I want to hold and stroke you all

night.”

Etarin snuggled closer with a soft sigh of happiness that rippled the hair on

Ruvane’s chest. He kissed Ruvane’s neck, and then gave himself over to the drowsy

kisses from the spacer.

The next morning, Ruvane woke to a flower from the dinner trays on the pillow

beside him and an empty room. He tucked the flower into his jacket and went back to

Grania for the next run. This time it was even easier to fly fast, negotiate hard and be

back to Flistik sooner than he’d planned.

Skrit paid up and offered the dancer again. Ruvane yawned and acted as if Etarin

was of no great concern. He even made a show of looking at some of the other servants.

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The blue bedroom already had a human-style dinner for two laid when he came in, and

Etarin was wearing a voluminous floor-length robe to match the room. But even the

robe could not conceal the bruises on the dancer’s strong arms and throat.

Ruvane kissed him, then kissed each bruise, his lips barely grazing the damaged

skin, and looked up, murder in his face. “Who banged you up, Beautiful?”

Etarin lowered his eyes. “I clumsy. Spill water on Master’s bed.”

Ruvane kissed him again, softly. Even in his wildest imaginings he couldn’t feature

this man being clumsy. “Be careful, okay? I want you in good shape next time.”

Etarin gave a shy smile at the promise there would be more nights. He drew the

robe over the bruises. “Not hurt me too bad.”

Ruvane drew him quietly into his arms. “If you were mine, I’d never hurt you.” He

kissed the top of Etarin’s head. “Never hurt little ones, it’s the first rule where I come

from.”

“You not be happy if I spoil your bed either.” The words had no conviction. Etarin

laid his head against Ruvane’s broad chest and listened to the odd three-count

heartbeat. “You not human,” he said, drawing away.

“Not quite, darlin’. My folks used to be, way back when. We’re still close enough to

be interfertile.” He realized what Etarin meant. “Six-chambered heart. Air’s kinda thin

on my world and the high altitude tends to need more circulation.” He kissed Etarin

again. “It’d take more than a spill to make me unhappy with you. Lots more. A little

water never hurts anything. It dries.”

He looked over the food. “Looks good, baby. Join me?” As they ate, Ruvane told

Etarin more of his species, Cythorians, who were from human stock a few billennia ago,

but had adapted to life on a world of mostly mountains and sea. Etarin cleared their

dinner away and shivered under Ruvane’s hungry gaze, one that had nothing to do

with their food. “You want to see if I can make you feel as good as I did last time?”

Etarin nodded. “You different kind of human, but still human.” He kissed Ruvane

with warm, soft lips as the spacer guided them to the bed.

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A different kind of human, and maybe magic as well, Etarin decided as Ruvane

remembered the exact motion and speed that were best for him. All thought was gone

when the clever fingers stroked him, inside and out, to the most rapid climax of his life.

“You only one ever do that,” he said, between the kisses Ruvane showered over his

face when he was finished.

“Damn shame. You’re so sweet when you’re coming.” Ruvane laid a long stripe

with his tongue along the muscular shoulders.

“Always surprise me when I do.” Unused to pleasure, Etarin had no good way to

realize when he was coming close to a climax.

“You’d get used to it with me. I’d make sure every time.” Ruvane nuzzled into the

dark curls, kissing the soft skin of his neck, and sucking at his earlobe.

“You do more work for Master?” Etarin sounded very hopeful. He didn’t want to

lose this man, this magic man who knew what he liked and always took care of him

first.

“You bet.” Ruvane punctuated this with a long, deep kiss. “If it gets me you, I’ll

work for him no matter how many insults he gives me. He doesn’t like humans much.”

He stroked Etarin’s legs, licking at his nipples. “You’re better than Stardust, better than

Windsmoke. Getting me higher faster than they ever did.”

“No, Master hate human. He kill last spacer who work for him.”

Ruvane scowled. “Why? Do you know?”

Etarin shrugged. “Wanted his ship?” He had no idea why the lizard had killed the

cranky little bandy-legged man who’d flown for him before.

Swearwords in three languages worked their way across Etarin’s chest as Ruvane

moved. “Why? He can’t fly it. Flistikkans can’t navigate for shit.”

“I not know. He just keep it. It in his hangar and just sit there.” Etarin pulled

Ruvane down for another kiss, worried now himself.

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“A few more runs and I’ll have enough money to buy what I really want.” He

kissed Etarin, deeply this time, and Etarin sucked at his tongue until Ruvane moaned.

“Then I can say yes or no more easily.”

Very softly, in his ear, Etarin whispered, “I hear his meetings. I always behind

curtain. If he make bad plan, I tell you.”

“Two more runs. That’s all I need,” Ruvane said, reaching for the barrier gel. “But

right now, I need you more, Beautiful.”

* * * * *

Finally, after a third run, it was time. Ruvane spoke up after Skrit had paid him.

“I’d like to buy Etarin.”

Skrit looked at him as if he’d never seen the human before. “Really, human? How

much you offer?”

Ruvane looked like he was thinking hard. “Twenty thousand is the going rate on

human slaves. Because Etarin is a specialty item, one made at significant expense and to

a specific design, the price should be much increased, say ten times that? And fifty

thousand more for all of the special training. Yes, I think a quarter million is fair.”

Skrit was amused by the offer. “Why you offer so much, human? You love little

toy?”

Ruvane shrugged. “Not really. Don’t have it in me. But he’s good company, smart

and I figure he’ll earn the money back by dancing for me in taverns and spaceports.” He

gave a slow, lecherous grin. “Besides, I got him all trained to what I like.”

Skrit considered the proposition for a few more minutes. “No. He mine. I not sell

my things.”

Ruvane met the answer with a shrug as if it didn’t matter one way or another to

him. “I’ll find another.”

“You have him tonight, human.” Skrit’s yellow eyes narrowed. He knew the spacer

would be trouble. Humans always were when they wanted something. The human

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could pretend he didn’t care, but Skrit had watched the surveillance tapes, and knew

what the humans did behind the closed doors. Etarin had never shown him that much

desire or passion. “Then you not land on Flistik anymore.” He tapped a couple of

buttons on the arm of his chair with his claws. Not only would Ruvane not land on

Flistik, he would never leave.

“Whatever you say. You’re the boss. You don’t want the hottest pilot this side of the

Galactic Corps doing your hops, it’s no slag off my hull.” Ruvane turned and headed to

the blue bedroom.

Etarin came in, his usual feigned fear changing to instant delight when the door

shut behind him. “You come back.” He flung himself into Ruvane’s arms and covered

his face and beard with kisses. Ruvane allowed him to kiss for a moment and then

looked him over. Etarin had chosen to wear only a pair of sheer, loose peach-colored

pants. They hid nothing and Ruvane’s breathing sped up at the sight.

“For the last time, beautiful boy.” Ruvane sat on the edge of the bed and started

opening his shirt.

The large dark eyes swam with tears that threatened to make his eyeliner run. “You

tired of Etarin?” His lip quivered and Ruvane kissed it.

“Never. The boss says I can’t come back to Flistik. I offered to buy you. He turned

down a quarter-mil. And the way he acted today, I’m thinking I better not stick too long

this time.”

Etarin’s jaw fell at the offered price. “I not worth so much,” he squeaked. A quarter-

million was more than most ships cost. It was more than any slave had ever cost.

Ruvane kissed him again, using the kiss to cover his motion as he shot the

movement device on the surveillance camera with a tiny palm-gun that he pulled from

inside his shirt, freezing the camera in place. “You are to me. Now do you want to come

with me or you want to stay here?”

“I come. Not hard choice at all.” Etarin looked around, still clearly afraid of being

overheard.

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Ruvane tripped the switch on his remote-link for the cycle. It would take a few

minutes for the ground-cycle to get there. He took twenty thousand in hard currency

from his belt-pouch and set it on the nightstand in full view of the camera. “I’m no thief.

I made a fair offer, and he said no. But I won’t just steal you.” Pausing a moment more

just to look at Etarin, Ruvane kissed him again until he heard the whine of the cycle’s

engine.

“Out the window. We’re going now. I got a twitchy feeling in my pelt that says

your owner is up to something.” Ruvene closed up his shirt and grabbed his jacket.

“Master follow us, kill us.” Etarin wavered, staring at the door of the room and then

at the window and the ground-cycle beyond it.

Ruvane nodded. “Gonna kill me anyway, I expect. That’s why we’re leaving. I paid

for you. Now he’s gotta catch us before he can hurt either one of us. And nobody tracks

my baby girl.”

Ruvane threw open the door-like windows and walked out over the sill. “Besides,

better to die free than live in chains.” He shrugged. “But if you’d rather stay, I’ll take

my money and go back to my ship and just remember you like any other whore in any

other port, instead of taking you with me and making you my lover. Come if you’re

coming.” He stretched a hand back to Etarin and beckoned.

Etarin swallowed very hard and took the proffered hand. “I coming.” He stepped

out of the window into the courtyard, looking absolutely terrified at this new event.

Ruvane suspected it the first decision Etarin had ever made on his own that was more

important than what color of glitter or robe to wear.

The cycle purred away as Ruvane strapped a helmet onto Etarin and slipped his

own on. He put his leather jacket on the boy to help protect him. Not that either would

really survive a bad crash on the little cycle, but anything was better than bare skin.

“Mount up,” he said, swinging a leg over. Etarin climbed aboard, not sure what came

next, and wrapped his arms around Ruvane.

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Ruvane tapped the throttle and the cycle roared into the night. “Hold tight,” he said

over the helmet communicator links. “Hold on really tight.” He revved the cycle to a

hundred and past, far too fast, completely unsafe. But Skrit would be finding the

deserted bedroom any time now and Ruvane wanted to be long gone before the lizards

caught up with them.

As they raced back to the main port, Ruvane caught glimpses of transports behind

them, coming from Skrit’s place. A siren sounded far back. He redlined the cycle,

pushing it to the performance limits, dodging what traffic there was on the road.

Ruvane tried not to swerve too much, not with this precious cargo who didn’t know

how to lean into curves. He could feel Etarin’s arms tight around his waist and Etarin’s

warm breath coming fast on the back of his neck, setting the small hairs there to stirring.

In the port, Ruvane reluctantly slowed to traffic speed, trusting he’d put enough

distance between them and their pursuers, and punched a few more remote buttons.

Grania would be all warmed up and ready when they got there. He paid the docking fee

at the door, rode the cycle up the ramp into her cargo hatch and tossed his helmet aside.

A black kitkin mewed around his ankles then scrambled up his pants leg to take up

residence on his shoulder. He winced a bit at the claws in his skin and scratched its ears.

“Fluffball, the kid’s got my jacket. How about you ride on him?” Ruvane gently

lifted the feline to Etarin’s shoulder and headed for the cockpit. Etarin followed,

stroking the kitkin who seemed perfectly content to dig in on the heavily padded left

shoulder and purr loudly. “Buckle down, Etarin, we’re leaving, right now.”

He didn’t pause to see how Etarin figured out the buckles of the second cockpit seat

on his own. Ruvane was very busy, too busy trying to get them off-world. Etarin

clutched the back of Ruvane’s chair with one hand and held the kitkin with the other.

Ruvane ran a very fast preflight and made a highly illegal lift. He skirted the

defense satellite and got clear of the system at ridiculous speeds. “What do you think,

Fluff?” The kitkin mewed.

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“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go that way.” He flipped into D-space, the

hyperdimensional area that let space-pilots traverse the cosmic distances.

Once Grania had settled into the D, he gave her console a pat, and let out a long,

slow breath. Then, he turned and stroked the kitkin. “Nice navigating, Fluffball.” The

kitkin purred at him. He kissed Etarin. “Fluffball says you stay.”

“Kitkin is navigator?” Etarin was very confused. “Never know kitkins talk. Back

home, Master eat kitkins.”

Ruvane wrinkled his nose, angry now. “Fluffball’s better at flying than I am. Stupid

lizards. Eating kitkins. That’s sacrilege. The Goddess don’t take well to people eating

Her kitkins.” He corrected himself. “Doesn’t. Sorry, my accent slides down-port when I

get mad.”

Etarin nodded. “Ate alive to make me cry. He catch us, he eat you alive and make

me watch. Then he eat me, keep me alive as long as possible so I hurt every second.”

Ruvane didn’t show his horror at this suggestion. Instead, he shot a flip grin over

his shoulder. “He’s gotta catch us first. And I’d disagree with him. Maybe even poison

him just for spite.”

Etarin giggled then looked upset. Ruvane knew his emotions had to be on a real

thrill-ride. His own adrenaline was making him feel all hot and cold and ready to run or

fight or fuck. “He send bounty hunters,” Etarin fretted.

“Hang on a minute.” The boy had a legitimate concern. Ruvane got on the comm.

“This is Ruvane Delkroy.” He gave his personal identification number, a lengthy

alphanumeric code that encompassed his planet of birth, his species and his profession.

“I just bought a slave, rather informally. I left payment and took him. You can check the

records on cam 0375 at 2215 local Flistik time.”

He gave the full, almost unpronounceable name of his former employer and the

official coordinates of the planet. “He may dispute my rights, but payment was left. Yes,

thank you.” After a few minutes more of discussion, he closed that channel and opened

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a second. Ruvane saw Etarin listening intently as he haggled with the people at the

central registry, and got his ownership changed.

Etarin stared, his confusion evident, still holding Fluffball and petting the kitkin to

calm himself. He let Ruvane kiss him. “It could not be this easy. I yours now? Master

never handle me again?”

Ruvane smiled. “All taken care of. And just that easy, Beautiful. No legitimate

Guild-backed Hunter will come for us.” He patted his pistol. “And any others I can

handle.”

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Chapter Two

They set down on first a lovely green world. After basic decontamination

procedures, Ruvane took Etarin shopping. They’d found a second flight jacket in

Etarin’s size and Ruvane had padded the shoulders against sharp kitkin claws. Fluffball

draped himself around Etarin’s neck and purred away happily as they walked through

the shopping district.

A beautiful boy like Etarin would be prey for every slaver and unsavory character

looking to make some fast money. Ruvane felt very silly as he wrapped the cloth cuffs

around Etarin’s right wrist and his own left one, like a pet owner, like the father of an

obstreperous child reduced to leashing him. He liked the excuse to hold hands. That

grip, along with his swagger and pistol and a look that said “he’s mine, back off”,

would keep his boy safe.

Ruvane did all the shopping. Every piece of clothing for Etarin was presented to

him first. He’d been leery of the scarlet thermal tunic but, seeing the way Etarin’s face lit

up at the color, allowed him to try it. He’d bought it, loving the way it looked with

Etarin’s skin and hair.

The packages were sent to the storage locker they’d rented at the spaceport and

they continued shopping. Ruvane restocked the ship’s supplies, occasionally checking

the list with Fluffball.

Etarin laughed, “Kitkin talk to you? Or you just used to talking to kitkin and not

Etarin?”

“Anything else you need, Beautiful?” Ruvane asked as they wandered the food

stores. “Anything you want, for that matter.” He noticed the boy staring at a display of

squarish pink fruit. “Those are really good.” He picked up several ripe ones and a

dozen unripe ones for the ship’s stores. He knew Etarin wouldn’t ask for what he

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wanted, not yet, so Ruvane just watched him carefully and tried to get all the things

that really seemed to appeal.

They restocked the medical supplies, refueled and generally prepared for the next

trip. Etarin looked like he was enjoying himself. It was clearly a novelty for him just to

walk free, holding his lover’s hand, and listen to everything around him. Ruvane knew

Flistik was a world of rocks and underground warrens, a desert where the lizards could

bask at their leisure. There were patches of green but nothing like the abundance here.

He caught Etarin staring at the plants and the animals around.

When the shopping was done, they stopped at a sidewalk restaurant for lunch.

Etarin set the menu aside without looking at it. “You order.” Fluffball curled up on his

shoulder and purred.

Ruvane nodded. He’d suspected as much. “Nobody ever taught you to read, huh?”

A literate person would have at least looked at the offerings. He ordered two portions

of his favorite dish, a small bird stuffed with dried fruit, bread and tree-nuts and

roasted with an herbed glaze. “We’ll fix that. I need my help literate.”

“Is illegal on Flistik, teach slaves to read.” Etarin kept his voice low, one worried

eye on the pedestrians.

Ruvane gave him a smile and undid the wrist-leash so they could eat. “In case you

missed it, we aren’t on Flistik and I run my ship to suit myself.” He reached over and

stroked Etarin’s face. “A boy as smart as you should pick it up in no time.”

They ate, Etarin consuming only half of what was set before him. “Eat little, dance

much. That way, I stay beautiful for you.” He slipped Fluffball a bite of the bird. The

kitkin took it delicately and purred.

“Just make sure you get enough.” Ruvane had the rest boxed and paid the tab.

“Our contact won’t be here until tomorrow. Come on, I want to show you something.”

He stroked Etarin’s hand before taking it and putting the wrist-leash back on both of

them. After a few words, Fluffball scrambled down Etarin’s body, took the leftover bag

in his mouth and trotted off toward the spaceport.

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“Kitkin not come?”

“Nope. He’s got his own plans.” Ruvane held Etarin’s hand and led him out of the

restaurant.

“Where go?”

“We’re going to the medcenter. I’m due for a couple of shots, and I want to get you

checked over, make sure all your immunizations are good. And I have an idea.”

Ruvane led Etarin to the walk-up clinic. They got their passes to see the docbot and

made themselves comfortable in the waiting room. Etarin looked at the people sitting

around, taking in the colors of their skin and the different kinds of hair. He frankly

gawked at a bright scarlet avian who made itself comfortable a couple seats away and

watched the movie on the holo viewscreen. Mostly, he watched the children.

“Guess you haven’t seen too many kids?” Ruvane asked.

“Only babies sometimes. Slaves only breed when Master said to. And I never able

to.”

Ruvane kissed him softly. There wasn’t much to say to that. They watched the holo,

a silly action thing involving a spacer getting himself into all kinds of scrapes that he

usually solved with his pistol or a tac-grenade.

The speaker called their numbers and Ruvane led Etarin back to the exam room.

The medical droid rolled in. Ruvane gave his ID code. The docbot processed it through

the plantary nets and announced, “You are overdue for a Slinettian Fever shot, your

basic parasite immunities and a full exam. Take better care of yourself, Delkroy.”

Ruvane rolled his eyes and saw Etarin looked shocked at the machine’s

brusqueness. The automaton clicked a manipulatory appendage in his direction. “Stand

please.” Ruvane got up. The docbot’s cranial piece detached from the chassis and flew

over, bathing him in a purple cone of diagnostic radiation. He saw Etarin look repulsed.

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“Healthy. Just the immunizations,” the head pronounced as it settled back on the

rest of the machine. A panel opened and three tubes came out. Ruvane extended his

arm. One settled over the wrist veins and the other two hissed against the muscles.

“Next,” the docbot said. Etarin stood up. “Identify.”

“Not know ID code,” Etarin whispered to Ruvane.

“No ID code, take data from DNA,” Ruvane instructed the machine. “Subject is

nulled human male. Query efficacy of hormonal treatment.” He could tell Etarin was

afraid of the docbot.

The manipulator wrapped around Etarin’s wrist and the machine whirred. “Subject

Etarin,” the machine spat out a long alphanumeric stream. “Testosterone time-release in

minimal dose will improve sexual functioning and desire without inducing puberty. All

immunizations overdue by two galactic years.”

“Current profession, spacer. Ordered, all immunizations needed for interstellar

commerce,” Ruvane insisted.

He wanted to hold Etarin as the dancer flinched away from the diagnostic cranium.

But more than one being in the diagnostic cone would foul the readings. Etarin stood

calmly, letting the purple light wash over him, but Ruvane watched his eyes dart to the

door.

“You’re fine, Beautiful.”

“Immunizations not hurt?” Etarin pleaded.

“Not really. They’re just kind of uncomfortable.” Once the diagnostic cone winked

out, Ruvane did wrap Etarin in his arms.

A nest of tubes came out of the docbot’s panel, including one tipped with a large

needle. “Immunizations and time-release testosterone ready.”

“Not hurt me!” Etarin panicked at the sight of the needle.

“Shh.” Ruvane stroked his hair. “I bet that’s just a capsule that goes under your

skin. It will hurt a little. But it will be worth it. Put your arm out.”

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Etarin shuddered but obeyed. Ruvane didn’t let go of him. He kissed Etarin’s

cheeks and eyelids the whole time the machine was immunizing him, and steadied him

when the needle punctured his arm.

“Thank you, citizens. Come again.” Ruvane wanted to kick whoever had

programmed that level of cheeriness into the medical droid’s responses.

“Awww, not even a licking-stick candy,” Ruvane grumbled as they left, one arm

around Etarin. He paused in the atrium to put the leash back on.

“Where go now?” Etarin looked as if his delightful day had turned sour.

“It’s a surprise.” They took public transit, a shuttle in a magtube, to the largest park

in the city. Through the whole ride, Etarin watched and absorbed, but asked no

questions. Ruvane wondered if the medcenter had killed all his trust. In the park, Etairn

just stared at the trees and flowers, the pollinating insects finally making him smile with

their brightly colored wings.

“So pretty here.”

Ruvane shrugged. “It’s nice. Nothing too special.”

Etarin gave him a shy smile and looked down. “Special because you here.” Feeling

very bold, he kissed Ruvane’s cheek.

The big spacer smiled at Etarin. It appeared he was forgiven for letting the scary

robot hurt his boy. He took them to a small bench in the shade and sat them down, one

arm around Etarin. “You like the green worlds better than Flistik, huh?”

“Lots better.” Etarin curled into his shoulder. “You know names of all plants?”

Ruvane chuckled. “No way. It’s not my homeworld and even there I can’t tell you

what you’re looking at half the time. I’m a city boy. Closest I ever got to plants was

pulling weeds in the orphanage garden.”

“We go to your homeworld?” Etarin sounded hopeful.

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“Someday. I haven’t been back in a long time. Not much work to be had there. Got

no family, so no good reason to go back.”

“Family?” Etarin looked at him, curiously.

“You know, parents, brothers and sisters, grandparents, cousins. I was a state-

raised orphan.”

Etarin looked confused by the words. “Not know those things.”

“You don’t have a family?” When Etarin shook his head, Ruvane scowled. “Not

even a mother? The woman who made you?”

“Remember very large female long ago. Maybe dream her, soft hand and singing.”

Etarin looked wistful, then shook himself. “Mostly remember Master and teachers. Try

not remember at all.”

“Yeah.” Ruvane nodded agreement with the last statement. “The women who ran

the orphanage were nice but they were just there, you know? I was just one more face to

wash and one more mouth to feed.” He grinned. “And one more scamp to yell at.”

Etarin turned the idea of “family” around in his mind. He would ask the databases

on the ship about it. He sat, on the green stone bench, looking at his large blond spacer,

the delicate little flitters and wondering if he was still dreaming. It was a nice, long

dream, but he knew he would wake up back on his thin pallet in the slaves’ level of the

mansion. It couldn’t possibly be real.

Ruvane led him through the park. They looked at the fountains and trees. Ruvane

pointed out adults with children, as they bought frozen treats or inflated toys or played

on the odd equipment.

“Families, see?” He pointed out other couples, some opposite sex, some same sex,

some no humanly discernible sex at all, walking hand in hand or appendage in

appendage. “Lovers.” He tightened his grip on Etarin’s hand just infinitesimally.

“When you’re ready to be free, you’ll be my lover.”

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Etarin looked at him with large eyes. “Your lover now?” They were hand in hand

like the other lovers. They were together. They made love like lovers. He held his breath

and waited for the answer.

Ruvane smiled and kissed him. “Sure.” He led the way back to the shopping

district. “I got a few more things I want to get.”

* * * * *

Once they made the contact, Ruvane took the job. They passed the days in D-space

doing all the little maintenance chores that the ship required. Etarin learned to read

very quickly, verifying Ruvane’s assessment of his intelligence. He’d mastered the

alphabet and worked his way into children’s readers before they landed with the first

cargo. By the time they collected their pay, he was well into longer books.

Ruvane insisted he learn to write as well. It was a skill most people never acquired

these days, not beyond signing their name. Typing was easier and faster and always

readable. He learned to sign “Etarin Delkroy” neatly, with a small flourish. He’d

protested adding the last name, but Ruvane insisted. Single names were the mark of

slaves, and in front of the clients, in public, Etarin was his lover.

Aboard the ship, his beautiful boy was most decidedly his lover. One evening, after

they’d eaten and cleaned up, and Fluffball was sleeping on the controls in the cockpit,

Etarin nestled in close.

“You answer personal question?”

Ruvane laughed. “Anything you want to know.”

“What you do for sex before Etarin?”

Ruvane gave him a crooked smile. “Bought it mostly. You want to see the extent of

my sex life for the last six years?”

Etarin nodded, clearly not really certain, but in over his head.

Ruvane opened a cabinet in the bulkead. A very large stack of holovids sat inside.

“You make holos of lovers?”

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Ruvane laughed again. “No, I watch the ones other people make.” He flexed his

right hand in front of Etarin. “My primary lover for the last six years.”

Etarin puzzled out some of the titles. He looked at Ruvane. “Why? You have

anyone you want.”

“Nobody I wanted. I’d make planetfall long enough to deliver and then I was gone

again.” He pulled Etarin back for a kiss. “You’re the only one who’s had a second round

in many years.”

“So glad you come back,” Etarin breathed. “Glad you take me with.”

“So am I.”

Etarin hesitated and then asked, “We watch one? Which your favorite?”

Ruvane picked up one of the holos. “This one.” He slotted it in the player. On the

screen, a standard human with long black hair was enthusiastically sucking the cock of

a red-skinned humanoid male, also with long black hair. As the camera pulled back,

more males, of all shades, filled the room. A green-skinned man with pure white hair

moaned on his hands and knees as a blue and a yellow male filled each end. A purple-

skinned male, his bald head gleaming in the lights, rimmed the yellow enthusiastically.

Etarin just stared at the screen. Ruvane sat back down on the bed, and Etarin curled

into his lap. Ruvane was hard already. Etarin gripped the shaft through Ruvane’s pants

and squeezed as he watched the orange male kissing the red one. A snow-white male,

his brown hair short against his pale scalp, went to his knees and took both the red and

the orange cocks in his mouth at once.

“Mmm, my favorite bit,” Ruvane said softly. Etarin felt him pulsate as he came in

his pants.

“I sorry, not mean to make mess.”

“It’s all right, Beautiful.” Ruvane tipped him back on the bed, at an angle where he

could still see the vid. “Need a taste of you.”

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Etarin didn’t protest as Ruvane sucked him in. After a couple quick licks, Ruvane

looked up. “Tell me what you’re liking.”

“Orange pretty, almost as pretty as girl. Purple, Blue, so sexy, move like they not

have landing struts between legs.” Etarin lost his breath as Ruvane slid two lubricated

fingers deep into him and swallowed him to the root. He continued, very garbled,

talking about Purple, whom he seemed to like the best.

Ruvane got his mouth around all of Etarin, and sucked slowly. He let a low hum

escape him as he spread his fingers and felt Etarin gasp. Very slowly, he traced his

tongue over the bottom of Etarin’s cock, writing the letters that spelled “I love you”. He

knew Etarin wouldn’t know what it said, but he did.

When Purple went to his knees, sucking cocks two at a time and getting others

rubbed all over his skin, Etarin lost all his words and just gave wordless moans as he

came into Ruvane’s mouth.

Ruvane moved back up to stroke and cuddle him. “Hot, huh? My favorite. Haven’t

needed it since you’ve been aboard.”

Etarin just nodded and stole a kiss.

* * * * *

Ruvane worried they would grow bored with each other very quickly, but Etarin

delighted him with something new every day. Even after weeks and months, he was

never tired of looking at the beautiful boy, never tired of the feel of his skin, the taste of

his kisses, the way his hair flowed like mineral-darkened water through his fingers. He

never tired of hearing Etarin laugh or watching that quick mind work at some new

problem. Etarin picked up the skills of running a ship quickly, his slim, strong hands

able to get into places Ruvane’s larger ones couldn’t reach without manipulator tools.

To celebrate a very successful run—one that had paid extremely well for their

speed, and had gone without a hitch—they’d gone for dinner at a restaurant well away

from the port. The native nightlife wasn’t something they sampled often. Many of their

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landing places were worlds not compatible with human notions of food or pleasure.

They worked and got going as quickly as possible. But Trivan was a human world, long

settled and quite peaceful. Ruvane had even had to leave his pistol on the ship since

Trivanian law forbade firearms.

The food was fresh and hot, nothing hydroponic, synthesized or vat-grown. The

music was soft and pleasant. Ruvane ordered a bottle of wine with the meal. They had

talked softly, laughed a great deal and enjoyed themselves.

Between the good food and the wine, they were not as sharp as they should have

been, trusting the security of this well-lit, over-manicured, closely policed planet. A

lamppost every hundred feet, a security camera on every lamppost. There was nothing

to fear. They made for the spaceport.

The sleep dart from a silent blowpipe in an alley took Etarin in the neck, sending

him crumpling to the ground. Ruvane bent to check, only to be taken by the next dart.

He heard the hum of an EM generator, which would fuzz all the cameras for fifty yards

as he crumpled.

They woke in a cage in the hold of a ship, Ruvane curled around Etarin, protecting

him even in sleep. Ruvane did a quick inventory of what was left to them and was

pleased to see Etarin doing the same. His boy was picking up some survival skills after

all. Maybe they had enough to escape.

“Whatcha got, babe?”

“Got wire, got small knife.” Etarin held up the contents of his pouches. “Guess he

not think toothpick is weapon.”

“You’re two up on me.” Ruvane twisted the heel off his boot. “Got a code-picker.

What say we make a run for it?” It was an unusual tool for a man of his honesty, but

Ruvane had a bad habit of forgetting his recognition codes and having to pick his way

onto the ship. Once aboard, he would reset the codes, and then forget the new ones just

as quickly. On most worlds, possession of a code-picker was a minor crime, punishable

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by a fine. Ruvane had been fined several times, and, each time, paid it with a smile,

saying it was less than a locksmith would charge. Ruvane sighed. This could be nothing

but a bounty hunter. After so many reassurances.

Etarin nodded. “Go and get off-world very fast.”

“Not so very fast.” The mechanized voice startled them when the blue-skinned

Aquilarian turned on the lights. The rose color edging the scales marked their captor as

female. Males had a black edge. “Skrit has paid me a quarter-million retainer to get you

back to him.” Her breathing helmet gurgled, and bubbles rose from her gills. She turned

her head so that one of her bulbous eyes could see them. Aquilarians had no forward

vision. The synthesized voice continued. “I’ll just take any of the toys that I managed to

overlook. I knew I should have stripped you. Tiresome humans.”

Etarin surrendered the pocketknife, a bit of wire and three after-dinner mints he’d

taken from the restaurant. Ruvane had made the code-picker vanish.

“Human, the code-picker.” The Aquilarian held out one of the tri-split fins that

served her for hands, the other keeping a pistol trained on them. “I heard.”

“I was just asking if he still had it. I don’t have one,” Ruvane gave her his best

innocent look. Unfortunately, innocent looked ridiculous on him, even when he was.

She sighed, a gush of bubbles rising to the top of her helmet. “Strip, both of you. To

the skin.” When they had, she gestured with the pistol. “Throw everything out through

the bars. I’d rather have you awake and eating on your own. But if I must, I will flood

the hold with sleep gas, hook you into nutrient drips and deliver you so. No more

difficulty.” She kicked it all into a pile out of their reach with her broad flat feet.

Ruvane gave her his most charming smile. “Not a bit,” he reassured her. She

nodded and went to finish her lift preparations.

Once she was out of the hatch, Ruvane concentrated hard. Etarin watched, looking

confused, and gasped softly as Ruvane evacuated the code-picker. Ruvane rubbed it

clean on his thigh and slapped it on the cell door. Etarin grasped his hand as they

waited out the fifteen interminable seconds.

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“It work after being inside you?” he whispered, knowing the only place Ruvane

could have hidden it.

Ruvane just watched the numbers cycle. “I sure hope so or Skrit’s having spacer,

extra rare.”

The door swung open. They grabbed their stuff, and waited until the engines had

powered up. They were cutting it very fine. Ruvane used the code-picker on the

garbage hatch, hustling them out it so fast that the opening and closing of the hatch

would register as a barely blip on the control board. If luck was with them, the bounty

hunter would never even see it.

Etarin slipped out easily, but Ruvane had to drop four feet to the ground as the ship

was lifting off. They got settled behind some crates and watched the Aquilarian break

atmosphere. Both breathed a lot easier once the ship had vanished.

“Too damn close, Beautiful.” Ruvane squeezed Etarin and pulled his pants on,

gingerly. “Remind me to carry a tube of lube strapped to my thigh. My ass is going to

hurt for a while from that little trick.”

Etarin laughed and kissed him, then boldly patted his ass. “Brave, clever lover.

Even if sore.” He dressed fast, the cool night air raising goose bumps all over him.

“Want shower. Her garbage chute…” He wrinkled his nose to show his disgust.

“Yeah. Let’s get gone ourselves then we’ll clean up.” If she found they were gone,

she could be back in an instant. Ruvane jerked his boots on and didn’t worry about the

rest of his clothing.

They found Fluffball at the ship. The engines were already cycling through their

warm-up phase and the cargo was loaded. The kitkin circled their ankles, mewing, and

then scaled Etarin to complain in his ear, punctuating it with a nip on his earlobe.

“Sorry, Fluffball. We taken by big fish female.” Etarin told the kitkin the whole

story as they ran the preflight and buckled in. Etarin called for the clearance at the port

and gave Ruvane the code they sent back. Grania was running all nice and legal as she

always did. They didn’t want any extra attention.

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“Shoulda been with us, pal,” Ruvane said, leaning back to scratch the kitkin’s ears.

“You coulda eaten her.” They lifted off, heading for the next job.

They had their showers after the transition to D-space. It wasn’t the long, hot, water

shower that either would have preferred, but the sonics removed both the outer later of

skin cells and the garbage odor. Etarin was sitting on the bunk, naked, combing his hair

with a scented lerv wood comb Ruvane had given him when Ruvane came out of the

shower, bundled in a robe that made him look furrier than ever. The sonics always left

him frizzy.

Etarin smiled up. “Handsome lover.”

Ruvane sat down on the bunk. Slowly, he looked over at Etarin, and he opened his

mouth even more slowly. The words tumbled out all at a rush. “Would you rather it be

your handsome bondmate? I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder the rest of my

life. If I bond you, you’re a free man and no bounty hunter can touch you.”

“You say that when you call the Hunters’ Guild and then get my ownership

transferred.” Etarin scowled.

“Called ‘em again while you were showering. The fish-bitch has been kicked out for

rules violations twice already and permanently blackballed from the Guild. She’s a

renegade, can’t legally Hunt. I gave ‘em her ship’s registry. They’ll take care of the

problem.” Ruvane’s look left no question that the Hunters would take care of it

permanently and fatally for the Aquilarian.

Etarin combed his long hair over his face, hiding behind it while ostentatiously

working at a knot. Ruvane ignored the avoidance display and parted the black curtain

with his hands, drawing it back from the lovely face.

“Look, we’re safe and alive. Bond with me, Beautiful. Be mine for always.” He had

just put his whole heart, his very life on the line, and the thought that this man, the one

he adored, might reject it was more than he could bear.

“You doing to keep me safe, or you doing for sex?” Etarin’s voice was still sharp

and suspicious.

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Ruvane leaned in and kissed him. “I’m asking because I love you. I have for quite a

while now, but I didn’t want to spook you. I want you for my bondmate, my business

partner and my beloved.”

“I…think about it.” Etarin gave him a light peck, twisted his hair into a braid and

slipped under the covers to face the bulkhead.

It was a long week while Etarin thought. Ruvane buried himself in work, doing all

the little chores he’d been putting off, stubbornly ignoring the voice that said Etarin

would say no. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if that happened. He wouldn’t leave Etarin.

He wouldn’t sell him or free him and abandon him. Ruvane thought his own position

through. If Etarin said no, it was probably just going to be because he wasn’t quite

ready to be free. So Ruvane would simply wait until he was. Once he reached that

conclusion, the rest of the week went much easier.

Etarin tried to hide in work too, but fear lurked around every corner. He had no

idea what it would mean to be free. He’d never even thought about it. He had

nightmares in which Skrit devoured a screaming Ruvane then started on him. He had

sudden attacks of fear during the day. The fear of being left alone, penniless, lost,

shipless, if Ruvane tired of him lurked around every corner of the ship. At least as a

slave, he could not be abandoned and had to be sold to someone who would take care

of him. But as a free man, even bonded, he had no such security.

Finally, feeling much as he had when he’d stepped out of Skrit’s house and into his

new and puzzling life, he made up his mind. Over dinner, he looked at Ruvane. The big

spacer almost never looked away from him, and this time was no exception.

He took a very deep breath and blurted before he lost his nerve. “I bond you.

Permanent. No temporary. You not leave me ever again.”

“Never, ever again, Beautiful.” Ruvane leaned over and kissed him, relief clear in

every motion of his tongue and lips. “We gotta go to my homeworld before I can do it

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though. Only fair to find my real clan name if you’re going to be part of it. Maybe I got

some distant family, cousins or something, that can come to the ceremony.”

“Delkroy not your name?” Etarin pushed away from him. “You lie and you make

me take a lie too?”

Ruvane looked hurt. “Delkroy is the name the Southside Orphans’ Home Number

283 gave me. It’s what I grew up with, what I use. I’m just saying it might not be my

real one. There’s a lot of Delkroys on my world. It’s the second most common surname,

and most of the orphans get it or Doolak.”

Etarin nodded. “Understand. Know you not lie to me.” He laid a head on Ruvane’s

shoulder. “Not have surname. Not have anything but ‘Etarin’ until you.”

Ruvane stroked his hair. “You’ll have Delkroy for always soon enough. Even if my

clan name is different, I’ll still use it. Hard to think of myself as anything else.” He

tipped Etarin’s face up for a slow kiss.

“Love you,” Etarin said, moving into his lap and toying with his beard. “You make

love to me? We both so busy, forgot for whole tenday.” He wouldn’t say that most of

that had been because he was thinking. He was surprised to find he actually wanted the

sex and not just the closeness. Thinking of the feeling of Ruvane inside him, the taste of

Ruvane’s kisses made him want them.

“Always, beautiful boy.” Ruvane picked him up easily, Etarin’s slight frame

melding to his body. Ruvane carried him the few strides down the passageway to their

cabin and tossed gently him on the bunk. Etarin giggled as he bounced.

Ruvane sat on the edge and stripped out of his boots before pulling Etarin’s off.

“Under the blankets, always, when we’re in space,” he said as he pulled off Etarin’s

flight jacket and his thermal shirt. The insulated pants went just as quickly, to be

followed by the two pairs of socks. They’d quickly discovered Etarin was always cold in

space. Ruvane’s body hair kept him warm, and his years of spacing had acclimated him,

but Etarin was smooth and used to desert heat.

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Etarin buried his naked self under the blankets, not wanting to get chilled. Ruvane

had added a couple of convection blankets, which sensed body heat and added to it,

into the pile soon after Etarin had come aboard. Growing up on the warm lizard world,

Etarin had no tolerance for cold. The convection blankets had the bunk to a perfect

temperature in seconds.

Ruvane took his time. Etarin watched him, enjoying the show, but encouraging

Ruvane to move fast enough that he didn’t get chilled. Ruvane joined him under the

blankets very quickly once he was naked. Etarin pressed against him. He loved

Ruvane’s large hairy body, and he knew Ruvane loved the feel of his body, the taste of

his mouth and the clean, cut cock against his own.

Ruvane was clearly inspired by that last sensation. “Beautiful, you want to try

something new?” he asked as he stripped out of his own jumpsuit.

Etarin nodded, his eyes wide. It used to be that such a suggestion would presage

something most unpleasant for him. Skrit was not careful of his human toy’s more

delicate skin. But Ruvane never hurt him, never even made him uncomfortable. This

time was no exception. The big hand was very gentle, drawing him in close.

“I read about this just today. Docking maneuvers,” Ruvane whispered, pressing the

blunt tips of their cocks together and sliding his foreskin up to cover the head of

Etarin’s. He held them joined, Etarin gasping at the intimacy of the contact, and rubbed

gently. They rocked together under the blankets, docked and close, kissing and

snuggling. It was nice, but not what Etarin really wanted.

Ruvane gave a small cry as he came, containing it with his foreskin, letting only a

little seep out onto his fingers.

“I have.” Etarin smiled and ducked under the covers to lick him clean. Ruvane

joined him, and they both giggled and came up for air, going head to tail under the

blankets getting stuffy very quickly. “So silly,” Etarin laughed, kissing Ruvane’s nose.

“You play all the time, like happy child. Except when need to work.”

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“And you’re getting better about it. Your turn, Beautiful. And that is my favorite

kind of work.” Ruvane dove back under the covers with a grin, knowing exactly what

would bring Etarin to his slow, pleasurable orgasm.

It came quicker than usual, and Etarin was unsurprised. He had suspected it might

when he had started feeling real desire. He’d learned how to tell when he was close,

how to anticipate the release.

Etarin kissed Ruvane when he came back up. “So good to me. Love me always.

That the best ever. Wanted it.”

“No fun if you don’t enjoy it, lover.” Ruvane wrapped Etarin in his arms and they

slept until Fluffball woke them by sitting on Ruvane’s chest and batting Etarin’s nose

while yowling.

* * * * *

Ruvane was out of the bunk and dressing fast. Etarin watched groggily as Ruvane

dashed out of the cabin, heading for the cockpit.

“Oh hells,” he grumbled as they were yanked out of D-space before either could

buckle their harnesses. Etarin sat down hard in the corridor and Ruvane stayed upright

only by catching hold of a conduit. Fluffball yowled as he ended up halfway through

the compartment and closed in a container. “A tractor beam.”

Ruvane struggled to the cockpit and Etarin went to rescue Fluffball from where he

was stuck in the container, cursing his lack of opposable thumbs in very loud Low

Kitkin. Etarin petted him and soothed him until he was down, occasional grumbles in

his purrs.

Ruvane flipped the commboard switch. The Merchant Authority ship had been

hailing them for several minutes and sounded short-tempered. “Attention, small hauler,

Grania. We will be coming aboard for a standard inspection.”

“Heave us to and attach umbilicals, Merchant Authority. We’re on personal

business this time.” Ruvane patted his hair into place and hoped he looked presentable.

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There was no hope for Etarin. He would take a comb and a face wash before he looked

like he’d done anything but tumbled out of bed after a long, hard night.

Etarin yanked his hair into a quick ponytail, zipped his flight-suit and sat perfectly

buckled in the navigator chair. Fluffball perched on Etarin’s shoulder, suffering the

kitkin harness to hold him secure. Ruvane greeted the Merchant Authorities. They had

nothing to hide. The log was up-to-date, their cargo was just small-profit inner-world

novelties and the ship was in near perfect shape.

The Merchant troops swarmed aboard, checking everything. The crack team went

over the ship with more precision than most mechanics. One examined the logs. Ruvane

noticed a cavity scanner being used on the ship to detect hidden compartments. That

was new. Once again, he was glad he was no smuggler or bandit.

“And where are you taking this?” The sergeant held up a toy kitkin made of real fur

from one of the crates. He nearly dropped it when it purred. He scowled at Ruvane,

trying to cover his embarrassment.

“Home to Cythor in the Farnese Cluster. We’re headed there anyway to bond, and I

got a contract for the toys.”

“Cythorian. Shoulda guessed.” The last of the inspection team submitted their

reports. The sergeant shrugged. “You’re good and clear. We could use more upstanding

independents like you.” The sergeant stared at Etarin, looking him over, seeing only the

long hair and smudged eyeliner. “Congratulations. She’s very beautiful.” The team

trooped off, and the Merchant Authority ship released them. Ruvane plotted their next

leap on the journey home.

“He thought I girl?” Etarin sounded almost sulky. He swiped at the smudged

makeup.

“Pretty enough to be, darlin’. Here. Pull the switch. Send us into D-space.” Ruvane

smiled over his shoulder at Etarin. “Grania won’t mind, she likes you.”

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Etarin reached forward to pull the switch and the stars blinked out. The men

startled as they blinked back in just as fast. A red light flashed on Grania’s console, and

Ruvane swore loud and long.

“What wrong?” Etarin leaned forward.

“Rotten docking hoses damaged our hull. Grania can’t make a jump with any outer-

skin damage. Well, hell.” Ruvane checked for nearby planets and came up with

nothing. “Beautiful, you’re just going to have to fly her. I gotta go do some welding

work, it looks like.”

Etarin looked at him, horrified at the sheer immensity of this task. “Me? Fly? What

if I break ship? Or crash?”

Ruvane kissed him. “Fluffball will be right here. There’s nothing to crash into for a

whole parsec. Do what Fluff tells you. You’ll be fine.” Ruvane disappeared down the

gangway.

Etarin moved up into the pilot’s seat and Fluffball got comfortable on the console.

Etarin saw the intercom light blink. That he could handle. He opened the channel.

“Okay, Etarin, Fluffball. I’m cycling out of the stern airlock right now. Just keep her

level and don’t worry.”

“Yes, Captain. Be safe.” Etarin kept the intercom open but grumbled to Fluffball,

“Don’t worry. Easy for him to say. Not so easy for me to do.”

Fluffball prowled the console. Ruvane kept a steady update on how the repair was

going. Etarin just fretted. He didn’t understand half of what Ruvane was saying.

Fluffball sang out and Etarin stared at the flashing light. Fluffball batted Etarin’s hand

to it.

“Ruvane, have company coming in, low stern arc.” Etarin had no idea what to do.

He heard some hard clunks and then Ruvane answered.

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“All right. I’m secured. Fluffball knows our basic evasion tactics. It could be

nothing, but let’s not take chances. I don’t have any valuable cargo for pirates, but I

have the most valuable crew in the galaxy.”

Etarin smiled even as he clenched his teeth and followed the almost random pattern

of the kitkin’s meanderings over the console. Grania lurched and pitched. She rolled and

dove. Fluffball dug his claws into the soft material of the console’s edge and hung on.

The second ship, a little star-yacht, zipped past and leapt to D-space as Etarin watched.

He followed Fluffball’s movements and pulled Grania out of her barrel roll.

“Holy Mother Sea, kiddo,” Ruvane swore. “Thought I was gonna eat my lunch

backward. That was a real ride.”

“I sorry,” Etarin said.

“Nah, you did just fine. Now level her out and we’ll get finished. Just a couple more

minutes for me.” He kept a running commentary about his welding, but Etarin didn’t

breathe easily until Ruvane announced the airlock had cycled shut and he was out of

his suit.

Ruvane, his hair and beard standing up every direction, came to the cockpit and

kissed the top of Etarin’s head. He flipped two switches and made the jump to D-space

before setting the autopilot. Then he pulled Etarin out of the chair, and held him tightly

as Etarin trembled.

“I so scared,” Etarin whispered. “Scared of pirates. Scared of Hunters. Scared of

hurting you.”

“You did just fine,” Ruvane repeated. “We’ll get you flying yet, babe.” He scratched

Fluffball’s ears. “You did great, Fluff.” Ruvane led Etarin back to their cabin and

cuddled him until he stopped shaking.

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Chapter Three

Cythor stretched out beneath them, blue and green and banded with clouds.

Ruvane cleared them with the port authority and set down in the city he’d grown up in.

After standard decontam procedures, they left the ship, Fluffball riding on Etarin’s

shoulder as usual. Etarin wrinkled his nose.

“Smell like factory.” He sneezed.

“Been industrialized for a long time, Beautiful. We try to keep it clean, but

everything has consequences.”

“It fine.” Etarin tucked his hand into Ruvane’s arm. “We find your name now?”

Ruvane kissed him softly and laughed. “Eager to be Etarin Delkroy for real, huh?

Instead of Delkroy’s Etarin.”

“Always Ruvane’s Etarin.” When the kitkin yowled and batted his earlobe, Etarin

skritched his ears and added, “Fluffball’s Etarin. Ruvane just borrow.”

Ruvane laughed and hailed an autohack. It took them to the state-run orphanage

where Ruvane had grown up. They waited in the hallway for an audience with the

director. It looked a lot nicer than Ruvane remembered. The carpet was new, the chairs

were comfortable. It wasn’t bare tile, hard wooden benches and the smell of cleanser

anymore. He still didn’t want to hang around long.

The director was a pretty woman, a little younger than Ruvane. He knew her hair,

the long black curls all caught into a low ponytail, but her face had changed and he

couldn’t find her name. He’d expected Director Caldell, the stern graying matron he

remembered with no fondness.

The young woman looked at him, with the same look of trying to place him. “How

can I help you?”

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“My name is Ruvane Delkroy. I was raised here. Now, I’m getting bonded and need

my real family name and clan location to do it right. I was hoping Director Caldell

could tell me more.”

“As if Director Caldell ever told you anything except how wicked you were and

how glad she would be when you were gone, Ruvane Delkroy.” Her voice wasn’t as

cold as the words. She shoved out of her chair and flung her arms around him.

“Welcome home, sweetie!” Ruvane, confused by the effusive greeting, raised an

eyebrow at Etarin.

“You not handle bondmate.” Etarin scowled at her, tugging at her arm. “Complete

stranger very rude. Paw my Ruvane like portside whore.”

She let go of Ruvane and glared at Etarin. “You’re not very polite yourself. I’ve

known him since we were kids. I’m Elkana.” She stroked the kitkin. “I see you took

good care of Fluffball,” she said to Ruvane.

Ruvane breathed easier but kicked himself for six kinds of fool. How could he have

forgotten her? Elkana had been his partner in many juvenile crimes, his confidante.

She’d been sixteen, all knobby knees and big dark eyes when he’d seen her last, with

only small resemblance to this lovely calm lady. She was a couple years younger, and

she’d given him Fluffball when he left. “Couldn’t do without him. Elkana, can you help

us out here?” He tried his most winning smile.

She sniffed. “As if you couldn’t talk me around to anything when you looked at me

like that. But you know I’d be happy to.” A few taps on her computer brought up his

file “Where’ve you been? You never came back for me like you said you would.”

Ruvane looked ashamed. “It was one thing, and another, and another, and by the

time I remembered, it was too late, and you were well past being of age. I know the

place doesn’t keep track of where we go, so I never came back.” He leaned in closer.

“Didn’t know you’d stayed.”

She glared at him for an instant. “I have half a mind not to tell you anything.” As

Etarin moved closer to protest, she smiled. “But I’m a nice person.”

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The state demanded that meticulous records be kept on every person receiving state

money. Despite Ruvane having been gone for twenty years, he was still in the database.

She turned the screen so he could see it.

“Says here you really are a Delkroy. Your people were killed in powerplant

explosion at their house. You were in the yard, saw it all. Which is why you didn’t talk

until you were nine. Your aunt brought you in because her bondman didn’t like you

and wouldn’t let her keep you.”

Etarin’s eyes filled with tears from this brief recitation. “So what family left?”

Elkana tapped a little more. “Your aunt is clan Matriarch now, Ruvane. Her

bondman died some years back. Your clan has a village a few hours north. Looks like

your grandfather’s still alive too. You want to surprise them? Or I’d be happy to call the

Matriarch for you.” She wrote down the commcode and location.

“I’ll call her. Thanks for everything, Elkana.” Ruvane leaned over and kissed her

cheek. He turned to the kitkin. “Fluffball? You want to stay and live a nice life as a tsah-

catcher for the orphanage? Elkana and the kids will spoil you rotten.”

Elkana reached up and patted the kitkin. Fluffball kneaded at Etarin’s shoulder and

settled in, purring loudly. “He stay with us,” Etarin said. He flinched as Fluffball

nipped his ear. “I sorry for calling you bad names. Thank you for help.” Etarin kissed

her other cheek in apology. He locked his fingers with Ruvane’s and they left, Ruvane

clutching the precious piece of information.

“Damn you, Ruvane Delkroy,” Elkana said without malice to her shut door. She

had dreamed for twenty years of the day he would walk back through the orphanage

door, but had never expected it to be with a male bondmate. In her mind, he always

came back for her. “Break my heart again, why don’t you? Be happy, lover, and take

good care of your boy and the kitkin.” She buried herself in work to hide her tears.

* * * * *

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Ruvane got a room at the Esplan Hotel, a mid-priced establishment that had

probably been a lot nicer forty years before. It was clean, and the bed was comfortable.

Etarin basked in a deep, hot bathtub. The in-flight rule was that the water was for

drinking. But Etarin hated the ultrasonic cleanser almost as much as Ruvane did. He

said it left him jittery and made his hair flyaway and staticy. Ruvane always laughed at

that and zapped him with the static electricity from his own frizzy hair. Anytime they

made planet-fall, the first thing Etarin did was take a bath.

Ruvane sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the plas strip with the commcode on it.

He looked at the comm box. He listened to Etarin splashing and singing in his clear alto

voice. He slid the strip into the comm box and pressed the holographic button that

would bill his credit-disk for the call.

The holographic image of a late middle-aged woman in scarlet robes thick with

embroidery appeared. “Matriarch Delkroy. How may I help you, citizen?”

Ruvane stammered a bit, unsure where to begin. “My name is Ruvane Delkroy. I

was raised in Southside Orphans’ Home Number 283. I consulted them and they

informed me I am of your people, your clan.”

“Ruvane? Bettina’s Ruvane?” the woman asked, looking a bit stunned. “My

nephew?”

“Yes, Matriarch.”

“What brings you home at this late date? I have not seen you in thirty-five years.

What claim do you have on the clan?” Her voice was cool, but not harsh.

“I have none, Matriarch. I throw myself on the charity of the clan. I come home to

bond. It is important to me that my mate have a family, as he has none whatsoever.”

She softened and smiled. “Weddings are always welcome. When may we expect

you?”

“Is tomorrow good?”

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“Excellent. We look forward to seeing you and your mate. Come to the town square

at ten. I am sending a map.”

Ruvane nodded. “We will. Thank you, Matriarch.” He pulled the strip and

pocketed it. Then he knocked on the bathroom door.

“Come!” Etarin called.

“Kinda the idea, Beautiful. Tub big enough for two?” Ruvane leaned on the

doorframe and gave his sexiest smile.

The great tub was quite big enough for two or even three. Etarin returned the smile.

“You find out?”

Ruvane stripped slowly, trying to give a good show. He unfastened his shirt slowly,

teasing, not letting Etarin see his chest or nipples until it was all undone. He slipped his

arms out and whirled it above his head as he’d seen strip-dancers do. Etarin laughed.

Ruvane toed off the low boots he wore on-planet, and then turned his back, wiggling

his ass as he worked his pants down. Etarin, catching the spirit of the game, put two

fingers in his mouth and whistled. Ruvane shed the pants and turned, covering himself

with his hands.

“Show it all,” Etarin insisted.

Ruvane took his hands away and let Etarin stare at his jutting erection as he

mounted the steps, one by one, almost stalking Etarin. Etarin scooted to the far side of

the bath, giggling. Ruvane slid into the water and pounced, drawing his beautiful

pledge-bonded mate close for a long kiss that tasted of clean water and pure Etarin.

“Here. Have here, now,” Etarin gasped, pressing close, letting Ruvane feel the

erection he was sporting, the first that he’d ever had spontaneously, the first not coaxed

out of him by another’s hands or mouth.

“Guess those treatments are finally starting to really work, huh?” Ruvane kissed

him harder, deeper, pouring out his whole self, wanting Etarin to know how loved he

was. He hoisted Etarin to sit on the edge of the tub and spread the dancer’s muscular

thighs. Keeping his own head barely above water, Ruvane licked and kissed and sucked

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until Etarin was half crying with need. Etarin’s delicate fingers played in his wet blond

hair, tracing over his face.

Finally, Ruvane stopped teasing and set to work, loving the way he could take all of

Etarin without gagging. He sucked deep, pressing his tongue along the bottom of the

slim cock, slipping a single finger, wet with water and saliva, into his lover.

Etarin bucked under his hand and mouth, craving the touch, responding to the act

itself as he never had. Ruvane knew that, even with him, sex was sometimes simply a

thing he put up with. But today, it was amazing. Etarin came in record time, to a

pleased murmur from Ruvane.

“Beautiful boy,” Ruvane whispered, kissing the head of his cock, then the scarred

skin of his perineum. He stole back and licked at Etarin’s opening, and then returned to

kiss the head again.

“Take to bed?” Etarin looked sated yet hopeful. Ruvane wanted to hold him and

pet him until he purred. “You not satisfied.”

Ruvane flicked the tip of his tongue out to lick the corner of his mouth, looking

ridiculously like Fluffball. “I’m satisfied enough.” He drew Etarin back into the water,

turned the in-tub heater on so it wouldn’t go tepid, and held Etarin on his lap, kissing

and stroking. “For now,” he added, nuzzling the nape of Etarin’s neck. “When we’ve

had enough bath, then we’ll go to bed.”

Etarin nodded against him, and gave himself over to the warm water and the large,

loving hands that were soaping him so gently.

* * * * *

The next morning, they dressed in their best and caught a shuttle up to the village.

They presented themselves in the town square promptly at ten. Ruvane looked every

bit the spacer from the popular vidthrillers. He covered his nervousness with a

swagger, and kept one arm firmly around Etarin’s waist. With Etarin by his side, it was

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easy for people to see him swinging his pistol through battles, fighting his way to a

prize and claiming it.

Thoughts like that about Ruvane always gave Etarin a thrill. He knew he was

Ruvane’s only prize. He stole a look up at his tall lover. Ruvane had polished his boots

and was dressed all in black, his pistol holstered. He’d fluffed out his hair and beard

and looked wild. The merry look in his eyes negated any threat and Etarin squeezed

him tight around his waist and surreptitiously adjusted his own scarlet thermal suit.

The Matriarch greeted them in her formal work-robes. “Nephew. Welcome home.

And your pledged mate as well.”

Ruvane made an odd bow and returned the greeting. Etarin did his best to imitate

the bow but said nothing.

The square was filling with people. Etarin could see a family resemblance among

them, though they were all individual. Here and there a darker head of hair stood out

as much as his own exotic features.

“Family!” the Matriarch cried, her words picked up by a small disk in the

embroidery of her robes and broadcast across the crowd. “One of our lost children

returns! Bettina’s Ruvane has come home. He comes, with nothing and no claim, asking

only to be a part of us again that his beloved may have a family. What say you?”

“Is he a Delkroy?” came a man’s voice from the rear. “Are either of them worthy to

be Delkroys? Did you pass a manhood trial, boy?”

Ruvane turned and bowed to the man. “I have had no manhood trial, sir. Such were

not done in the orphanage.”

“Test them,” called a woman from the other side of the crowd. “If they are worthy

to be Delkroys, we will marry them and welcome.”

“So say we all!” The crowd took it up. “Manhood trial, so say we all.”

Etarin edged a little closer. Shouting crowds had never boded well before. Ruvane

squeezed him reassuringly.

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Ruvane looked at Etarin and then the Matriarch and nodded. “We will pass the

trial,” he shouted to the crowd. Neither knew what would be required, but for each

other, they would face anything. Ruvane had dared theft and bounty hunters already

for him. Manhood tests were almost never lethal. Etarin glanced around the crowd and

saw they were handsome people. This one didn’t look like it scarred anyone either.

The Matriarch silenced them. “Tomorrow at dawn, our boys will enter the Testing

Cave,” she explained. “They go alone, naked and unarmed. They must find each other,

their goods, and emerge men. Should they not emerge by the second dusk, we shall go

in after them.” She turned to Ruvane, “Should you fail, you are unworthy to be a

Delkroy. You will cease use of the name at once, take a surname and have no claim on

the clan.”

“I understand, Matriarch. We will pass.” The crowd cheered. Etarin relaxed against

Ruvane. It didn’t sound all that hard, really.

“He has Delkroy spirit.” The old man from the rear made his way to the front.

“Let’s see if you’re worthy to be my grandson. Come on home and we’ll have lunch.”

Etarin could see Ruvane in the merry green eyes, the thick hair and beard and the

shape of the oldster’s face. He never let go of Ruvane’s hand as they made their way to

a nice townhouse.

“It isn’t much,” the old man said, laying out meat and cheese, pickles and fresh

bread, pies and fresh fruit. “But it’s fresh. Better than what you eat in space.”

If that was a small lunch, it was a wonder the clan members weren’t the size of

shuttlecrafts. “You were a spacer, Grandfather?” The word felt odd in Ruvane’s mouth.

He didn’t remember anything before the orphanage. According to his calculations, he’d

been about three when they’d taken him there. He didn’t remember having a

grandfather, but this man seemed familiar.

“Aye. Off-world too, when Bettina’s house went, else I’d have raised you myself.

But space is no place to raise a baby. I’m too old to pull the Gs now, so I live here in the

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village.” He hesitated a moment and wrapped his arms around Ruvane. “I’m sorry, son.

I knew I should have taken you out of that orphanage the minute I made planetfall.

Your aunt convinced me you’d get better care there than an old space-head like me

could give.”

Ruvane drew away after a moment. “I followed you into space. Got my own ship.

Not your fault.” He took a bite of a meat pie to cover his confusion.

“Grandfather,” Etarin said softly. “What means?”

“What does what mean, pretty boy?” Grandfather looked him over.

“What mean those words, grandfather, grandson?”

“Means Ruvane’s mama was my daughter. You understand those words?” He

looked at Ruvane, worried written large on his face. “He’s not dim, is he?”

“Not dim.” Etarin bristled. “Never have family. Not hear words of family, except in

reading. Now I confused. And you call Etarin dim for not knowing what he never hear

of or see!” He scowled at the old man. “I understand lovers and bondmates. Know the

right combination of bio-sexes make little ones, but I never see it. So now I dim.”

Ruvane wrapped an arm around him and soothed away his anger. “Shhh,

Beautiful. Here’s how it is. The lady who made me was made by Grandfather and his

woman. We’ll do some reading on extended families tonight.”

Grandfather just laughed. “He’s got the Delkroy spirit, my boy. He’ll make a fine

addition to the clan.” He laid a hand on Etarin’s shoulder. “You stood up real well to

the clan. You’ll do fine tomorrow.” He must have seen the nerves on their faces,

because he turned reassuring. “Look, boys. The Testing Cave has been mapped out for a

thousand years. It’s very safe, just confusing.” He went to a cabinet and took out a large

plas sheet. He unrolled it over the table, showing it was a map.

“The Testing Cave. Ruvane, you’ll go in the north entrance.” He tapped it. “Etarin,

they’ll probably send you in the south.” He pointed to it and then to a large chamber in

the middle. “Your gear will be here. If you don’t get too lost, you should find it by

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dinnertime. There’ll be food and water and clothes and a light and a rope. Use the rope

to guide yourself out. You’ll do fine, boys.” He rolled the map back up.

“I wanted to study it more,” Ruvane protested.

“Sorry, son. We can let you have a look, but no memorizing. Don’t worry. The

average twelve-year-old boy can get in and out by suppertime. Big spacer like you

shouldn’t have any trouble.”

Ruvane hoped Grandfather was right.

* * * * *

As Ruvane shivered in his boots, the only clothing he’d been allowed even in the

predawn cold, he wished he felt more confidence in Grandfather’s words or that he’d

been allowed a longer look at the map. Etarin had protested the nudity vigorously, even

though there were no women in the group that took them to the Testing Cave.

Grandfather had explained it was to keep them from smuggling anything in, like lights

or ropes. Etarin, remembering the code-picker, had laughed and been easier with the

decision.

At the first ray of the sun above the horizon, an uncle prodded Ruvane to the

mouth of the cave, and said the ritual words, “We send you in a boy.” He clapped

Ruvane on the shoulder. “Return to us a man.”

Ruvane imagined Grandfather, saying the same words to Etarin, at the south

entrance. As he shivered again, he knew Etarin would be miserable with the cold.

By ten feet in, Ruvane couldn’t see anything anymore. He kept one hand on the

wall, trying to remember the map. He figured as long as he kept walking he’d be fine.

The wall vanished from under his hand and he turned the corner, groping until he felt

the wall again.

* * * * *

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Etarin put his right hand on the wall and kept his left in front of him. He knew

there was nothing but the dark in this place. No creatures, nothing to harm him. He

walked slowly anyway. The floor was level and clear of debris. He kept to the right-

hand wall, figuring if it dead-ended, he would be looped back to the original corridor.

He moved carefully, calmly, taking his time. He was a man, and this would prove it to

everyone.

All his life, he had been nothing but a boy. Kept a boy long past adulthood by his

alterations, only he knew he was a man. Skrit had told him his age once, and he’d never

forgotten, had kept track for years. Now, twice the age of the boys usually sent in to be

tested, he felt more a man than he ever had.

Once, after a bout of self-recrimination, he had demanded to know how Ruvane

could love only half a man. He had never forgotten the answer. “What makes a man is

here,” Ruvane had tapped his temple, “and here,” he’d laid a hand over Etarin’s heart.

“It’s not what’s between your legs. And I love a whole man.” After today, it wouldn’t

be only Ruvane who saw him as a whole man.

* * * * *

Ruvane hated the cave. He hated the test. In the dark, his whole time sense was all

thrown off. He should have found the chamber by now. He imagined his stomach

rumbling, although he knew he’d only come a few hundred steps. He worried about

Etarin. What if it was all an elaborate plot to separate them, sending Etarin back to

Flistik and his former master? He kept walking, his hand on the wall, and a dozen

nightmare scenarios playing themselves out in his mind.

A faint glow of light, after what seemed a day and a half of walking, drew him. He

headed that direction, the light getting steadily brighter. He burst into the main

chamber of the cave, seeing the pile of their clothing, a lantern, a table set with lunch

and a couple of water pouches to take with them.

No Etarin.

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He checked his wrist-chron. He’d spent three hours in the darkness. He dressed and

had a drink from the pitcher on the table. He sat. There was nothing he could do.

Taking the light and rope and going hunting would be stupid. He had no idea which of

the many passages Etarin was in. But what was to say his people weren’t in league with

Skrit? What guarantee did he have that Etarin had even been started at the south

entrance and not handed ‘round to every cousin and uncle who wanted a taste of him?

He’d almost worked himself into going looking, when Etarin turned the last corner

and stepped, blinking, into the lit chamber. Ruvane sprang to his feet and hugged him

hard.

“You made it. I was so worried, Beautiful.”

“Of course I make. Grandfather say nothing dangerous. I took time, was careful.

Nothing out there, just dark.”

“Yeah but enough dark to give even your big, bad space pirate the willies.”

Etarin laughed at him. “Overactive imagination. I make better.” He drew Ruvane

down for a kiss. “You want me make all better?” He raised one eyebrow at Ruvane’s

crotch with a wicked smirk.

Ruvane nodded, Etarin’s naughtiness always a turn-on for him. The prospect of

becoming his bondmate seemed to make Etarin bold. Ruvane loved the change. He

stripped out of his clothes, even the boots this time.

Etarin shoved him to the smooth floor of the cave. “You stay. I need drink.” He had

a glass of water and then returned. He perched atop Ruvane, kissing him, stroking him.

He gripped Ruvane’s cock and gave it a light tug. “You well ready.”

“Looks like you are too.” Ruvane tried lowering his mouth to get it on Etarin’s

erection. Etarin thwapped him on the nose as if he was an out-of-bounds kitkin.

“Naughty pirate. You my prisoner now. You scared of dark and I not.” Etarin

kissed him and took the sting from the words. “Since I keep head, I get head.”

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He leaned down and kissed Ruvane deeply, then sucked him in for a moment.

Ruvane gasped as the cool air of the cave chilled his wet cock. But it didn’t matter

because Etarin was between his thighs, licking and stroking.

“Where tube of lube you say you going to tape here?” he asked, planting a small

bite on Ruvane’s thigh where it joined his body. He rose. “Use mouth. I take you this

time.”

Ruvane sucked Etarin’s half hard cock in eagerly, making sure to be sloppy and wet

him thoroughly. He hadn’t seen this side of Etarin, this confident, sensual stranger who

gave sexy orders. He’d seen many sides of Etarin, but not this, not in the year they’d

been together. The hormones had made his boy’s desires much more like those of a man

and Ruvane loved the change. When Etarin pulled out of his mouth, Ruvane rolled onto

his stomach, knowing the dancer could hold his legs but that it would grow

uncomfortable well before he finished. He hissed a little as Etarin slid into him. Etarin

wasn’t at all large, but it had been a long time since anything had gone in there. He

acclimated quickly, and Etarin felt perfect.

“Feel nice,” Etarin said softly. He gripped Ruvane’s hips, hard and tight. Ruvane

sighed at the sheer perfection of the moment. Etarin moved slowly, voicing his

enjoyment of each stroke, prolonging the moment, carving out a cave in time to rival

the one they were in.

Ruvane started to squirm as the spit wore off and the friction increased past his

comfort zone. Etarin leaned forward and nipped his shoulder blade. “You stop. Making

it difficult.”

“Sorry, darlin. You’re getting uncomfortable, it’s kinda burning. Think you could

finish soon? This floor’s real hard too.”

“I finish.” Etarin sped up, trying to climax. Sometimes, Ruvane knew, it still eluded

him. This was not one of those times. Finally, with a soft cry, he came. Ruvane

shuddered beneath him at the sound.

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“Oh babe. I know it’s not always easy for you.” When Etarin rose, Ruvane moved

away a little and came up to hold him and kiss him.

“You not satisfied.” Etarin wrapped one long hand around Ruvane’s hard cock.

“I’ll take it tonight, in a real bed, Beautiful.” Ruvane kissed him again. “Thank you

for this.”

Etarin nodded. “Welcome. Get dressed, find way out.”

“Yeah. Be pretty embarrassing if they came looking for us and found us screwing

like a couple of kids that can’t wait for the bonding night.”

Etarin pulled on his pants. He looked much relieved to be out of the cool air of the

cave and back into warm clothes. “It dark yet?”

Ruvane checked his chron. “Early afternoon. We find our way out and supper

might even still be hot for us.” He gave Etarin a wide grin. “And I’ll get you for

bopping me, naughty boy.” He caught Etarin in his arms, pinning the dancer so his

shirt trapped him. “You’ve never been like that. I loved it.”

Etarin spun out of the hold and got his shirt on. “I not boy.” He cleared his throat

and appeared to be thinking the words through. “I am a man now. Grandfather says

so.”

“My man,” Ruvane agreed. “And after tomorrow, I’m yours forever.” The big smile

that greeted this only got wider when Ruvane added, “You know, Fluffball’s part of the

ceremony. He’s the representative of the Goddess, as one of Her kitkins.”

“He will have place of honor? Sit on altar, maybe?” Etarin lapsed back into his

usual speech pattern. Ruvane suspected it would be a while yet before Etarin mastered

articles and all his verbs.

“Yep.” Ruvane slung the rope over his shoulder and stole a kiss. “You know, I

kinda like my family. Should we get a place here and make it home port?”

Etarin sounded almost hesitant as he shrugged. “If want to.”

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Ruvane looked at him, wondering what had gotten into him. “Do you want to? The

ship will always be home, but sometimes, it’s nice to know we have a safe port, and a

hot water bath waiting.” He thought maybe Etarin wasn’t too sure about the whole idea

of a family. Even to Ruvane, the idea of dozens of people, young and old, who loved

them both seemed too good to be true.

Etarin nodded slowly. “But not give up ship? I always be your Etarin, yes?”

Ruvane picked up the lantern. “Yes. I knew the bathtub would sell you on the

idea,” he teased.

Etarin gave a soft laugh. “I need bath now. Floor very dirty.”

“We both do.” Ruvane gave a funny hitch of his leg. “I think I got gravel in my ass.”

Etarin’s eyes widened, looking horrified. Ruvane kissed him. “I’m teasing. It’s just

sand.”

“Is awful cave.”

“Nah, been in lots worse. It’s dry. So I picked up some sand. That’s what baths are

for. And it was very much worth it just to see you like that.”

“Love you,” Etarin said softly, and pressed into his side.

“Love you too.” They set out for the cave entrance, Ruvane playing out the rope as

they walked and Etarin carrying the lantern. They had to retrace their steps twice, but

found their way out just before sunset.

Grandfather was waiting, with some of the other men. They gave a small, ragged

cheer. Grandfather knocked his pipe against the heel of his boot and said, “Took you

long enough, men. Let’s go home for supper.”

* * * * *

Slightly disappointed by the lack of fanfare—after all, he had become a man,

something he’d never thought to be—Etarin took Ruvane’s hand and went with them.

The feast in the center of the village took them by surprise.

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It was modest, simple food, but plentiful. The clan ate cheerfully, with many toasts

to the newly made men. Before dessert, the Matriarch rose.

“They have passed the Trial of Manhood. In three days, they walk the Path of Blood

to be bonded. Simin, you will teach your boys what they need to know for the

ceremony.” Grandfather nodded. “A Bonding at sunset, three days hence,” she

reminded all the cousins and other relations. That brought a loud cheer.

Etarin slept very well that night, curled in Ruvane’s arms, in the big bed at

Grandfather’s house.

The next days were taken with preparations. Grandfather explained the ceremony

to them, which canceled their plans to go into the city for clothes and such. Etarin had

no traditions to counter with, and no family to stand with him. Fluffball bounced in,

mewing.

“Fluffball, stand with me?” Etarin asked, giggling. The kitkin purred under his

hand.

Grandfather thought a moment. “Won’t be the first time. Goddess-avatars usually

don’t get involved in the ceremony proper, but I think we’ll make an exception.”

Rituals settled, they set to helping the clan cook for the feast. Ruvane had helped

pay for it, but the whole family had contributed something, a part of their gift to the

couple. This feast was more elaborate than the Trial dinner, and Grandfather finally

relegated them to prepwork while he did the cooking.

“I’m a cranky old man and have lived alone too long to like folk meddling in my

kitchen. You two just stir and chop.”

The day before the Bonding, Ruvane and Etarin took a shuttle into the city. They

entered the gray Hall of Records, Etarin clutching Ruvane’s hand, pale, his big eyes

wide and scared.

They took the elevator to the twentieth floor and the Livestock Office-Sentient

Division. Ruvane hated the name. Etarin was far more than livestock. But legally, he

came under the same jurisdiction as kitkins and calaps and any other animal that was

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owned. There were many sentient species kept as pets and slaves throughout the

galaxy, and their treatment and welfare had to be regulated.

Ruvane led Etarin to the counter. He pulled out the small ownership disk he’d

gotten when Etarin’s owner-of-record files had passed to him. “I want to free a slave.”

The man behind the counter looked up at Ruvane and Etarin, then picked up the

disk. He passed the disk through a reader.

“Property named Etarin—human, nulled male; age twenty-four; current owner,

Ruvane Delkroy; permanent residence, small hauler Grania, in transit, no home port,”

he read. “Is all that correct?”

“Yes,” Ruvane said, unhappy with the bluntness of it.

“You’re sure you want to free it? Nulled human males don’t tend to do well as free

people. It might be better off with you.”

He,” Ruvane corrected, leaning over the desk, his arms bulging under the tight

flight-suit, and baring as many teeth as he could in a very fearsome grimace, “is being

freed to become my bondmate. And if you call him ‘it’ again, we’re going to see how far

up your ass that data reader fits. Now what’s the processing charge?” He leaned closer

and sniffed as if preparing to rip the clerk’s throat out with all of the large white teeth

he was showing.

The clerk, a standard human who was unused to fully angry Cythorian males,

stammered a bit. “Five thousand, Mr. Delkroy, sir.”

Ruvane passed over his credit-disk. “And he’ll need an ID and credit-disk of his

own.”

“Two thousand more,” the clerk managed. His hands shook as he did the

processing.

“Run it all,” Ruvane said. He relaxed a little, but kept leaning on the desk.

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Half an hour later, Etarin stared at the disk in his hand that proclaimed him “Etarin

Delkroy, human male. Next of kin, Ruvane Delkroy, bondman.” He was silent until

they got back to the shuttle.

“I yours now,” he said. There was no question in his voice. “You magnificent.”

Ruvane just settled back, wrapped one arm around Etarin’s shoulders. “You

deserve the best. And I don’t like anyone giving you crap.” He kissed Etarin and they

rode back in comfortable silence.

* * * * *

The day of the Bonding, Ruvane tried to stay calm and normal and succeeded

miserably, pacing the townhouse like a restless kitkin. Etarin looked unfazed, but spent

several hours dancing to burn off the nervous energy. Neither thought nerve-soothing

sex would be a wise idea.

An hour before sunset, Grandfather took them out to the grove. They shed their

clothes. Etarin protested being naked yet again.

“All our major rituals are done naked, boy. Shows we have nothing to hide.”

Grandfather hugged him. “You’ll be fine. And no one’s worried about your alterations.

Not any more than we’d be anything unusual on any off-world bondmate Ruvane

brought home.”

Apparently comforted, Etarin stripped and put on the crown of ferns and flowers.

He held very still as Grandfather tied his hands gently behind his back. He took one last

look at Ruvane, standing quietly, similarly decorated and bound, a green blindfold over

his eyes. That sexy image was his last sight as his own green blindfold descended.

“Easy, son,” Grandfather said, taking his arm. “I’ll guide you out to the path.

Ruvane will meet you there.” Etarin let himself be led. The paths were smooth stone

and he could smell the forest around him. The night air was warm and sweet. After a

long walk, well over a thousand steps, Grandfather said, “Step right here, Etarin. It’s

going to feel really nasty. You’re standing in a dead calap.”

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Etarin made a face as he stepped into the cooling guts of the dead animal. Tradition

had decreed that a food-animal be sacrificed and its blood used for the ceremony. At

least they didn’t eat the animal at the feast anymore, but fed it to the canid pets.

Tradition was tradition, even when it was a disgusting tradition and he only had to put

up with it for a little while. Then Ruvane would be his always. He didn’t wiggle his

toes.

He heard a soft mew and then tiny claws dug into his skin as Grandfather set

Fluffball on his shoulder. “I ready, Fluffball,” he said. “Not dig in too hard, okay?”

“Go on then, boy. Three good steps then turn to your right for three more.”

Grandfather sounded very proud. “Go when the music stops.”

The high piercing pipes over the light handheld drums skirled to a finish and the

clan applauded. Fluffball nipped Etarin’s earlobe, signaling him to go. He took three

good steps, very aware that he was naked in front of a lot of people. He turned before

Fluffball could bite him again and the kitkin purred louder. He finished the three steps

and stood quietly, trying to figure out where he was.

The path was sandstone, smooth under his feet. There was the smell of conifers and

mountain air, the smell of burning wood and incense and the crackle of torches. The

odor of blood hung over it all. A breeze off the mountain caressed him, tickling almost

like Fluffball’s tail down his back. The crowd had quieted. Someone warm and equally

naked bumped against his back.

Before he could ask if Ruvane was completely sure about this idea, he heard the

Matriarch begin the ritual words. “Blood poured out, a river between us. They have

walked through the river of blood to this moment. Their feet mark the Path of Blood as

have the feet of our people for a thousand generations. They have walked through

blood and fire to this moment. Should they dishonor it, let another river of blood be

poured out to wash the stain. Bring them from the night of blood and fire into the light

and life they will share!”

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Fluffball stood up on Etarin’s shoulders and bounced to sit on his head before

batting his blindfold off. It took several paw strokes and Etarin sneezed and tried not to

giggle. Ruvane blinked in the torchlight across from him and smiled. From their left,

came the clearing of a throat. They turned to see the Matriarch in her traditional robes.

She smiled at them both as she slid a small knife along her palm. She dabbed her

fingers in the bleeding cut and painted a letter on Ruvane’s cheek. “Nephew, son of my

sister, you are of my people. Speak your desire.”

“I would bind my life to my chosen mate. With him, will I share joy and sorrow,

strength and pain, shelter and uncertainty.” He gave Etarin another smile. “With him at

my side, I will fly as far as I am able. Then with him, I will walk as far as I can. And at

the end, we shall bear each other up for the last few steps.”

The Matriarch smiled. She turned to Etarin and painted the same letter on his

cheek.

“Off-worlder. Beloved of my sister’s son. You would be of my people. Speak your

desire.”

Etarin spoke carefully, trying to remember all the words. “I claim chosen mate as

my own. With him at side, we endure all hardship, share all happiness and grow.

Together. Always.” He, too, garnered a smile from the Matriarch.

The Matriarch turned to the clan. “You have heard the declarations. What say you?”

“Aye!” the family roared with one voice.

“So say you. So say I.” She beamed at the men. “So say we all. Etarin, you are of the

Delkroy, born not of body but of love as my nephew. Ruvane, you are bonded. Bring

great glory on the clan with the love of your mate.”

She kissed each of them and then whispered, “Kiss him.”

Etarin, emboldened, did. Deep and sweet and long he kissed. The cheer that rose

from the family around told him this was the right thing to do. He tugged at the cords

that held his wrists.

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“Before the clan, here assembled, prove your devotion with more than words,” the

Matriarch announced.

“Turn around, Beautiful,” Ruvane said. He looked over the knots and went down

on his knees to start untying them with his teeth. He planted a light kiss atop the curve

of one golden buttock and Etarin squirmed. The family cheered.

“Untie. Then prove devotion,” Etarin laughed. Ruvane stole a lick along the cleft in

his bottom and then got the knots loose enough that Etarin could slip out. The family

cheered again. He turned so Etarin could untie him.

Etarin’s slim fingers worked the knots and got him loose. He turned the kneeling

Ruvane and pulled his face up for a kiss. They parted and he stared at his great tall

lover, on his knees now, the blood on his face bringing up stories of primitive warriors,

savages who swept in and plundered at will. He shivered a little.

Ruvane stayed on his knees, obviously enjoying the view. “I prove my devotion to

my mate in the traditional way,” he announced a bare instant before swallowing

Etarin’s cock. Etarin blushed, shivering at the feeling of Ruvane’s mouth as the family

roared its approval.

Etarin pulled him up for a kiss. “We prove devotion more privately! Now we

celebrate.” He led Ruvane to the dressing grove, and they dressed to go down to where

the party awaited them. The feast was magnificent, but Etarin grew bored with all the

cousins who stood up to give toasts and wish them happiness. He ate what he wanted,

his nerves having killed his appetite earlier, but started fidgeting well before the meal

was done.

When the dancing started, he let Ruvane lead him through the first as was

customary. “Slip away when get chance,” he whispered. “Meet me up by big rock.”

They’d found the big rock on their explorations of the village. It was a popular

place to meet for trysts, or shopping or going into the city or for any purposes. It took a

while, but Ruvane finally escaped his long-lost relatives, all of whom seemed to want to

give him another drink or clap him on the back, and found Etarin sitting on the large

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flat stone. He sat beside his mate. They looked at the stars silently for a long time, the

dancing music low and pleasant in the background.

Etarin leaned in to kiss him. “You scared life be boring now?” He tried to make the

question a joke, but he had to know.

Ruvane laughed. “I know it can’t be. Not with you along.”

Etarin looked hard at his mate. The question he hadn’t dared ask in the year they’d

been together rested on his tongue. Finally, he blurted, “Why you decide to take me?”

“Because…” Ruvane looked at him, looked at his own hands and looked at the sky.

He hesitated a long time.

Etarin bit his lip and cursed himself for a fool. Only a fool would ask why and spoil

what they had.

Ruvane’s answer, when it came, was very soft. “Because even then I loved you and

wanted you to be free with me.”

Of all the answers Etarin had imagined, sex, profit from his dancing, desire, this

had not been one. “Really?” he asked.

“Really and truly,” Ruvane promised, sealing it with a kiss.

Etarin laid his head on his bondman’s shoulder. “Love you.”

Ruvane was looking at the stars again. “Fluffball can enjoy the party for us. I’ll just

sit up here with you.” He nuzzled Etarin’s hair, spreading the clean grassy smell of the

local shampoo over them both. “You’re even more beautiful by starlight.” Etarin

cuddled closer, and Ruvane’s voice grew even deeper, more serious. “This last year has

been the best of my life.”

Etarin kissed his chin under the beard. “I think it only year of my life. Before you, it

not life.”

Ruvane bent and kissed him, long and slow, almost like tasting his new mate. He

teased, “Found you under a barrel in port and you followed me home.”

Etarin smiled hugely, his teeth white in the darkness. “No, that Fluffball.”

64

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For Love of Etarin

“Shhh, he thinks he was a present from Elkana. You…” Ruvane kissed him again.

“Best money I ever spent.” He squeezed Etarin and corrected himself. “No, wait.

Freeing you, those disks, were the best.” Etarin pressed a kiss to his neck. “My own

bondmate. Safe, and free and with me for always.”

“Love you.”

They sat and looked up at the stars, until Ruvane noticed Etarin was getting heavier

and heavier. He saw his bondman was asleep after the long week and picked him up

gently. He carried Etarin back to Grandfather’s house, managing to avoid the family in

the process, and tucked him into their bed.

Ruvane looked at his sleeping bondman for a minute. Softly, he said, “At the end,

let only this be said, that all Ruvane Delkroy did, he did for love of Etarin.” He leaned

over and kissed Etarin’s forehead. He smiled at the sleepy yet happy moan that was his

only response. He crawled into the other side of the bed and held his sleeping mate

close.

There would be time for lovemaking in the morning. There would be time for all

the adventures yet to come. Ruvane, busily dreaming of standing with Etarin and

Fluffball atop a mountain of wealth, never heard the kitkin pad in and curl up at their

feet. He never stirred when Grandfather looked in, smiled and turned out the hall light,

before going to bed himself.

Fluffball lay curled all night on the bed, keeping watch on his humans and purring

to himself.

65

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About the Authors


Angelia Sparrow has been telling stories for almost forty years, and writing for

almost that long. She traded a library paraprofessional position for ten in the wind and
the hum of the highway. She drives a semi and writes during her loading and
unloading times.

Her home time is spent refereeing four kids, two cats and a husband. She crochets

and knits to get past writer’s block.

She has been publishing professionally since 2004, mostly paranormal romance, and

has been nominated for several awards.


Naomi Brooks has been writing since the age of nine, when she won a short story

contest at her elementary school. She has been active in the fan fiction community since
1999, before finally going pro in 2006.

She works as a shipping clerk when not writing and finds her young male

coworkers her number one source of inspiration. She is mother to one brilliant, gifted
and non-finicky cat.


Angelia and Naomi welcome comments from readers. You can find their websites

and email addresses on their author bio pages at www.ellorascave.com.




Tell Us What You Think

We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at

Comments@EllorasCave.com.

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Also by Angelia Sparrow

Raising the Dead

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Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning

publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC

on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you

breathless.

www.ellorascave.com


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