AnK - Black Moon Rising
folder
+. to F › Ai no Kusabi
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
38
Views:
13,528
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142
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Currently Reading:
1
Category:
+. to F › Ai no Kusabi
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
38
Views:
13,528
Reviews:
142
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
Disclaimer: Stating the obvious, I do not own Ai No Kusabi nor do profit from this little endeavour other than the sheer joy of clacking the keys and doffing my cap in reverence to Yoshihara Rieko for creating such complex and intriguing characters.
AnK - Ch 10 - Perfectly Imperfect
Black Moon Rising
By: ElegantPaws with all due deference to Yoshihara Rieko
Edited by: Ainzfern
Key Pairing: Raoul/Katze
Rating: Mature – NC -17ish
Parts: WIP – 10 of 25
Reviews are fuel.
Chapter 10 of 25 – Perfectly Imperfect (Post OVA)
~~~BMR~~~
A dreamless sleep, he was thankful for it. In fact he hadn’t slept so soundly in ages. Tired muscles and an equally tired mind sought comfort and had found it in the somnolent haze of sleep.
Katze almost purred in delight at the reassuring feel of the body warmed silk beneath him. Amber eyes opened sleepily and drifted to the skylight in the dimness that was not quite dawn, his long legs sliding across the slippery sheets like an indolent feline.
This was his, this hallowed cocoon. The world lay beyond that portal, ready to rip at him as the Elite had done just hours before simply because he could.
As if a cool breeze had entered the stillness of his bedroom, Katze shivered, brought to full wakefulness by the harsh memory of that summary dismissal, possibly for some imagined breach in the peculiar game the Blondie was playing. A game with rules only the Elite was apparently privy to.
That pleasurably indolent haze had lifted with the recollection, his angular jaw line grew rigid as pale eyes resentfully followed the progress of a single beam of sunlight that crept stealthily onto the sheets, causing the emerald green silk to shimmer playfully in the otherwise darkened room.
“Prick.”
His fingers fumbled with the knob of the bedside table and quickly grasped the controls that would shutter the skylight, vanquishing the importunate beam before its radiant glow overtook the sheets.
He wasn’t ready for the day to begin. Darkness was preferable.
A soft knock, he would have to address Kato’s flawless sense of timing. The man always knew when he was awake. It seems the elder servant had made a study of his boss’ habits. Either that or he was stalking him with some motion sensitive device.
If it were anyone else, it would be dangerous, but Kato was a comfort of sorts.
“Come in, Kato.”
The faintest of smiles touched pale lips while he lazily donned his robe. “You better have coffee with you or I won’t be held responsible.”
Kato listened for the telltale click in his earpiece signaling the release of the pressurized lock that safeguarded the dealer’s privacy.
Dark eyes twinkled in the dim light. This game they played each weekend morning never lost its luster and boded well that the Master was in a much better mood than a few hours before, when polite requests had been met with stony silence and a sharp retort and commanding dismissal.
“I have brought you a carafe and your portable com, Mister Katze.”
The red-head adjusted his pillows and prepared his lap for the tray.
Kato looked especially pleased with himself. There was undoubtedly a surprise under that lid. The man lived for food.
“Good Man. So how do you intend to poison me this morning?”
Kato straightened, looked suitably aggrieved as he inspected the bedroom and busily began to retrieve the items of clothing atypically discarded on the carpeting.
“Dry toast, a nutritional supplement and fruit, Mister Katze.”
The dealer lifting amused eyes slowly to regard the annoyed man who was carefully folding clothing with a put upon expression.
“What, no Bolian rashers purchased at my great expense from that thieving vendor you favor?” Katze queried off handedly while eyeing the display of his com. Kato was so easy to catch.
A mildly indignant huff was barely suppressed as the little man moved towards the bathroom to prepare the dealer’s bath.
“I took the liberty of assuming you would not be inclined toward anything exotic this morning, Master.”
Kato took such pride in his presentations, it was almost impossible to resist teasing him on occasion.
Pale eyes studied the clients serviced and the bar’s takings with a satisfied nod. Just one night without Guy’s freeloading crew had produced considerable savings on complimentary narcotics alone. Next on the agenda, the off-world shipment for the upcoming Exotic Pet Auction, Donovan would see to that.
"It appears we had a good night.”
“Yes, you did, Mister Katze. The new acquisition should be ready to hold his own soon. He cleaned up well but is somewhat quiet. Would you like me to arrange the usual, introduction to his duties?”
The black market dealer nodded distractedly and narrowed his eyes at the rapidly scrolling display of figures, two, possible three discrepancies not in their favor.
“Yes, give me a few hours. First I need to speak with Donovan about changes in personnel.”
The silence that followed the simple statement was palpable. Lying had never been Kato’s forte.
Katze eyes narrowed further as he looked up at the nervously hovering figure. “Kato, where is Donovan?”
~~~BMR~~~
Hovel.
It was the only word that came to mind for Donovan as cold blue eyes scanned the dark, sad little room, Guy called home.
A lounge chair, in advanced disrepair, occupied the bottle strewn corner closest to the window, its innards moldy and by current appearance damp. Perceptive eyes looked up at the dark rotting ceiling where rain water regularly seeped through.
“You can have the cot, if you want to sit. It’s dry.”
Donovan continued to lean against the wall, thankful for his coat. He really did not want to make skin contact with it either. By appearances what passed for a sheet and a makeshift pillow had never seen water.
“No thanks, just wanted to see you home.”
“Such as it is, Baldy?”
“You just keep pushin’ and pushin’, don’t ya, little man?”
The bodyguard snorted and eased off the wall, his eyes falling on the one interesting item on the bed, a rather expensive toy for one such as Guy, clearly stolen. The serial number had been cleanly removed by laser.
“What? You got more for me, already? No thanks. I think you almost busted something, big boy,” the disembodied voice retorted with a chuckle.
The man just didn’t learn.
“I’m going. Just remember to be at the club in three hours, the boss wants to talk with you. Don’t fuck it up this time. He doesn’t give second chances.”
Donovan turned casually toward the doorway to check Guy’s proximity as he pocketed the device and sauntered down the hall to the partially turned door of the communal facility.
No one else lived on this level of the rapidly deteriorating building that was once a factory.
He still could not rationalize why he had felt the need to follow the cock sure leader of Bison home, other than to observe the chestnut haired mongrel’s entertaining gait as he tried to walk ahead feigning nonchalance, despite his obvious discomfort.
Blue eyes peered into the modest and surprisingly clean little cubicle with its one source of overhead light. The firmly muscled nude body bent over a pink tinged bowl of water and a soiled rag being rinsed of evidence had been an even bigger surprise.
Donovan felt a stab of guilt as he saw Guy’s profile grimace, entirely oblivious to being observed by the bodyguard, who had noticed the blood on his own cock as he cleaned up with his own sanitized med supplies meant for wounds and the like.
Guy has snorted and refused any assistance as he turned and holstered his own unattended partial erection; his only comment about the perks of being one of the chosen, who always like to keep their hands clean.
The bodyguard shook his head. Guy’s mouth would be his undoing.
Stealthily the minder retreated to the room, the cold metal device in his pocket becoming inordinately heavy. It posed no threat to the organization and was at least two generations behind the current Midas issue.
He threw it back on the bed, along with a few chips of bearer credit before making his escape down the stairs without a word.
Katze would be looking for him by now. The Boss never slept and would have questions. Donovan had seen those cursory looks given by pale knowing eyes.
Some truth was in order, come what may on both their parts.
~~~BMR~~~
All seemed quiet as he cut the engine. No one about but the usual stragglers wending their way home after a good night of debauchery, weekly credits earned nullified by overindulgence.
Donovan was thankful for his room on the main floor of the club and its ideal position near the delivery depot. It was the weekend. He did have that in his favor and if habit proved fortuitous, the Boss would still be in bed with the blinds down going over the books and smoking like a chimney.
He checked his own com. No messages; no queries, he was in the clear. A shower, a quick debrief with his men and he would be ready for their meeting - no one truly the wiser.
The quiet hiss as the lock disengaged to his quarters was welcomed as was the familiar darkness which had a pleasing scent.
They had cleaned.
Donovan’s mind wandered back to the dark little hole, Guy called his home. He sighed tiredly and removed his heavy overcoat, throwing it where he knew one of the two chairs would be as he headed to the bathroom and froze mid step.
The scent was distinctive.
A flash of light and a burning hiss caused him to turn. The flame’s caramel glow silhouetted a rigid alabaster countenance before fading to nothingness, leaving in the stillness the fragrant scent of cloves.
“Good Morning, Donovan. How are Guy and your brother? I trust well?”
~~~BMR~~~
Right now his sole focus was on the peculiar music box that Katze had gone to great lengths to procure.
Raoul pointedly ignored Deek’s query and dubious offer of assistance, knowing full well why the Furniture had made said – curiosity and fodder for gossip amongst his peers.
Varied tools, some still hermetically sealed, lay in neat clinical rows atop the expansive desk as though prepared for surgery, which in fact they were.
He had gotten it to work briefly the night before with marvelous results. It had taken much studious effort to decipher the antique mechanism’s functions.
Full lips quirked maliciously, the red-head had been fit to be tied when its gentle trill filled the library. Score one Raoul. Oh it was petty to be sure, the thrill it gave the Elite, finally achieving a genuine rise out of the little creature.
Those intriguing eyes had become liquid flames of blinding hate. Unfortunately, the pleasure had been short lived, spoilt by the mongrel’s quick rally.
Yes, Katze was an enigmatic being, unabashedly passionate and yet cold in superficial demeanor.
Such wholly inappropriate pride, intellect and near steely self-control begged to be quashed, it was almost…Elite, for want of better words. Too long in service, that was undoubtedly the reason for the self-possession in one so perfectly imperfect; fascinating.
“Upstart,” Raoul murmured, adjusting his chair and set to work carefully inspecting the object for seams. He chuckled as he turned it on the desk with a finger tip, entirely mesmerized by its neat, aesthetic design. The mechanism’s irritating lack of cooperativeness in revealing its soft underbelly was very familiar.
“Just like your rightful owner.”
“Master Am?”
Raoul looked up suddenly remembering the Furniture’s presence and noting the quickly lowered lids, veiling beady eyes that had been fixed on the Elite’s face with a wealth of suspicion and unspoken censure.
“That will be all, Deek. Be so good as to close the doors on your way out.”
“Yes, Master.”
The response lacked a certain surety however, as the manservant continued to hover obsequiously, awaiting permission to speak.
“What is it, Deek?”
He was long overdue for some personal time and if he chose to spend that time in dismantling this tiresome device before having it sent to the ridiculous ex-Furniture, he would do so. After all, he had returned the glove.
“I beg your indulgence if I am overstepping, Master Am, but it was my understanding that you had a previous social engagement with his Excellency at the penthouse this afternoon?”
A pale brow rose with mild annoyance. He had forgotten.
“Yes, yes…thank you, Deek. I am fully aware of my obligations.”
“Very good… Master Am.”
Raoul looked up sharply from his current task just as the doors seamlessly closed.
Two beats…exactly two beats. It seems they all did it to make some pathetic point when miffed.
Why had he never noticed before?
~~~BMR~~~
This wasn’t good.
The mere fact that the boss had left him to attend to whatever with a casually request when done to join him in the usual place was foreboding. He hadn’t even waited for a response to his query.
Message delivered. He knew where Donovan had been.
Donovan knew more than most just how deceptive Katze could be in more than appearance.
This impromptu meeting atop the roof of the club was designed to intimidate. More than one former ally had lost their footing in such discreet meetings.
Now as he stood behind the tall willowy figure that gave off the impression he could so easily be snapped in two by a bracing wind, stood ramrod straight, silhouetted by the slowly rising sun.
Katze was fully aware of the bodyguard’s silent presence but feigned rapt attention with the glimmering horizon as the sun broke through the moisture laden clouds.
The distant beckon that was the central city of Tanagura shimmering in all its gilded, crystalline splendor; nature deifying its inglorious power. Power stolen from perceived lesser humanoid forms such as themselves.
“We’ve been together five years, Donovan. Six, if you count our minor skirmishes before we came to our mutually beneficial understanding.”
Donovan folded his arms across his chest as Katze slowly pivoted on one heel, sun-kissed eyes mere slits as he regarded his most trusted man and inhaled the fragrant smoke.
“I would never betray you, Boss. You’ve kept him safe all this time without asking anything of me. Why would I risk that?”
Whisper soft, the red-head exhaled and returned his gaze to the horizon briefly with a slight incline of his head. “You tell me, Donovan.”
The bodyguard whirled in the direction of the slight movement, catching the briefest of metallic glimmers atop an adjoining roof.
He had given the right answer.
“Now about the newest member of staff, do you want the pleasure of breaking him in or has Guy sapped all your energies?”
“How…”
“Discretion, Donovan. It is a requisite in this organization.”
Katze flicked the butt of his cigarette at the bodyguard’s feet before stepping past him, heading for the stairs.
“I think fifty credits will cover it. Don’t you?”
Donovan sighed. “Yes, Boss.”
“Excellent, now let’s attend to the newbie, the day’s not getting any younger and neither am I.”
For the briefest of moments Donovan turned and regarded the adjoining rooftop where another figure stood, rifle finally at rest. That had been the metallic glimmer he had seen in his peripheral vision.
“Don’t make me regret this, Donovan.”
Their eyes met, gold tinged with a peculiarly threatening light.
“No Boss.”
~~~BMR~~~
His mouth was dry.
“Guy! Wake up!”
The loud incessant banging on the makeshift door served only to irritate the dazed leader of Bison as Sid continued to pound, demanding entry.
“Fuck off, already! I’m tryin’ to sleep, here.”
Discretion had never been Guy’s strong suit and the narcotizing effects of one too many stouts, purely for medicinal purposes, had not made his often times challenging thinking process all that clear.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, if you don’t stop, Sid!”
“You won’t believe what we found at the entrance!”
God, his head was pounding and the only way to get the little bastard to stop would be to get up and open the door.
Slowly the chestnut haired mongrel raised his head. He never slept on his stomach and now he had a crick in his neck to add to his current bodily woes. Guy winced as he sat up and got his bearings. It was better than earlier.
Fucking Donovan!
He would teach that cocky shit one of these days, but for now he would live. That’s all that mattered he thought as he staggered to the door and wrenched it open determined to clock the pest.
Familiar cerulean eyes peered up at him excitedly waving a single credit disk in front of his face. “Is this legal? As near as Luke and I can figure, it is! Who’d you take down last night?!”
Slowly grey eyes looked down at the open trunk filled with food, medicine, clothing and sundry items in disarray. Clearly the crew had already been through it, almost picking it clean.
Guy’s eyes narrowed as he gritted his teeth and grabbed Sid by the collar, raising him on his tip toes. Oh those eyes were beyond familiar.
“You and me have an appointment. So go downstairs and get every fuckin’ thing the others took. It’s all going back!”
~~~BMR~~~
His movements were graceful, Katze would give him that. At some point he had been exceedingly well trained in servicing. No question, he had been someone’s prized Pet.
Soft mewling accompanied the expert lapping of Donovan’s cock, just enough to heighten the sense of the forbidden while soft, full lips surrounded the bodyguard’s turgid length.
A thin sheen of sweat graced Donovan’s skin as he moaned his pleasure and thrust his hips forward, graceful hands smoothed over well muscled inner thighs encouraged by the stifled moans. Despite his current task, green eyes darted beyond the podium to the still, seated figure smoking quietly with a stoic, analytical expression.
He needed to impress. He needed to show his value. This was the last stop. Only death lay beyond, if he failed.
His hair and dexterous lean form was attractive.
Katze found himself mesmerized by the wealth of rich strawberry blonde tresses, its pallor and its obvious softness. He had cleaned up well. A handsome face, somewhat drawn, but that too would pass with a little care. His price would be high.
The black market dealer saw the come hither look, furtively given beneath lashes. Oh he was good. So good in fact, a quiet, consistent fire thrummed within the dealer’s loins as he carefully crossed his legs to avoid detection.
Donovan groaned as wet lips suckled him and an agile tongue caressed the throbbing vein beneath the head of his cock. He closed his eyes, preferring the vision of another face with equally long tresses, richer in color, darker of visage and grey of eyes.
It was enough. Strong callused fingers stilled the moving head as he came in waves and thrust frantically into the wet, hot orifice.
Katze’s eyes narrowed as he watched Donovan’s trembling lips and the sharp intake of breath upon his release. No question, he was thinking of another.
Sex was never neat.
Something the ex-Furniture had learnt a long time ago in his care of Pets under his former Master’s auspices.
The thick, viscous arc of cum had its place and the stage was best suited for the display, guaranteeing further patronage from those who watched with voyeuristic pleasure.
He would be popular.
The new acquisition would be performing there soon enough with others. Perhaps he would put him with the one of the two females he had in service along with another male – an exotic combination. The possibilities were endless, the combinations equally so. Sufficient masculine to be dominant, but coy enough to receive, he would prove profitable.
Kato, who had stood at the door, awaiting further instructions moved forward hurriedly as Katze beckoned with a long elegant digit.
A shared conspiratorial whisper concluded the performance as Donovan sagged and leaned back on his naked haunches, patting the head of the newly indoctrinated employee, unaware that confused grey eyes observed the finale beyond the doorway as said employee dabbed delicately at pouty reddened lips.
He had succeeded.
Death, averted for another day. He was of value.
Author’s Note
Sorry for the delay, RL has been busy of late. It is my sincere wish that you have enjoyed.
ElegantPaws
By: ElegantPaws with all due deference to Yoshihara Rieko
Edited by: Ainzfern
Key Pairing: Raoul/Katze
Rating: Mature – NC -17ish
Parts: WIP – 10 of 25
Reviews are fuel.
Chapter 10 of 25 – Perfectly Imperfect (Post OVA)
A dreamless sleep, he was thankful for it. In fact he hadn’t slept so soundly in ages. Tired muscles and an equally tired mind sought comfort and had found it in the somnolent haze of sleep.
Katze almost purred in delight at the reassuring feel of the body warmed silk beneath him. Amber eyes opened sleepily and drifted to the skylight in the dimness that was not quite dawn, his long legs sliding across the slippery sheets like an indolent feline.
This was his, this hallowed cocoon. The world lay beyond that portal, ready to rip at him as the Elite had done just hours before simply because he could.
As if a cool breeze had entered the stillness of his bedroom, Katze shivered, brought to full wakefulness by the harsh memory of that summary dismissal, possibly for some imagined breach in the peculiar game the Blondie was playing. A game with rules only the Elite was apparently privy to.
That pleasurably indolent haze had lifted with the recollection, his angular jaw line grew rigid as pale eyes resentfully followed the progress of a single beam of sunlight that crept stealthily onto the sheets, causing the emerald green silk to shimmer playfully in the otherwise darkened room.
“Prick.”
His fingers fumbled with the knob of the bedside table and quickly grasped the controls that would shutter the skylight, vanquishing the importunate beam before its radiant glow overtook the sheets.
He wasn’t ready for the day to begin. Darkness was preferable.
A soft knock, he would have to address Kato’s flawless sense of timing. The man always knew when he was awake. It seems the elder servant had made a study of his boss’ habits. Either that or he was stalking him with some motion sensitive device.
If it were anyone else, it would be dangerous, but Kato was a comfort of sorts.
“Come in, Kato.”
The faintest of smiles touched pale lips while he lazily donned his robe. “You better have coffee with you or I won’t be held responsible.”
Kato listened for the telltale click in his earpiece signaling the release of the pressurized lock that safeguarded the dealer’s privacy.
Dark eyes twinkled in the dim light. This game they played each weekend morning never lost its luster and boded well that the Master was in a much better mood than a few hours before, when polite requests had been met with stony silence and a sharp retort and commanding dismissal.
“I have brought you a carafe and your portable com, Mister Katze.”
The red-head adjusted his pillows and prepared his lap for the tray.
Kato looked especially pleased with himself. There was undoubtedly a surprise under that lid. The man lived for food.
“Good Man. So how do you intend to poison me this morning?”
Kato straightened, looked suitably aggrieved as he inspected the bedroom and busily began to retrieve the items of clothing atypically discarded on the carpeting.
“Dry toast, a nutritional supplement and fruit, Mister Katze.”
The dealer lifting amused eyes slowly to regard the annoyed man who was carefully folding clothing with a put upon expression.
“What, no Bolian rashers purchased at my great expense from that thieving vendor you favor?” Katze queried off handedly while eyeing the display of his com. Kato was so easy to catch.
A mildly indignant huff was barely suppressed as the little man moved towards the bathroom to prepare the dealer’s bath.
“I took the liberty of assuming you would not be inclined toward anything exotic this morning, Master.”
Kato took such pride in his presentations, it was almost impossible to resist teasing him on occasion.
Pale eyes studied the clients serviced and the bar’s takings with a satisfied nod. Just one night without Guy’s freeloading crew had produced considerable savings on complimentary narcotics alone. Next on the agenda, the off-world shipment for the upcoming Exotic Pet Auction, Donovan would see to that.
"It appears we had a good night.”
“Yes, you did, Mister Katze. The new acquisition should be ready to hold his own soon. He cleaned up well but is somewhat quiet. Would you like me to arrange the usual, introduction to his duties?”
The black market dealer nodded distractedly and narrowed his eyes at the rapidly scrolling display of figures, two, possible three discrepancies not in their favor.
“Yes, give me a few hours. First I need to speak with Donovan about changes in personnel.”
The silence that followed the simple statement was palpable. Lying had never been Kato’s forte.
Katze eyes narrowed further as he looked up at the nervously hovering figure. “Kato, where is Donovan?”
Hovel.
It was the only word that came to mind for Donovan as cold blue eyes scanned the dark, sad little room, Guy called home.
A lounge chair, in advanced disrepair, occupied the bottle strewn corner closest to the window, its innards moldy and by current appearance damp. Perceptive eyes looked up at the dark rotting ceiling where rain water regularly seeped through.
“You can have the cot, if you want to sit. It’s dry.”
Donovan continued to lean against the wall, thankful for his coat. He really did not want to make skin contact with it either. By appearances what passed for a sheet and a makeshift pillow had never seen water.
“No thanks, just wanted to see you home.”
“Such as it is, Baldy?”
“You just keep pushin’ and pushin’, don’t ya, little man?”
The bodyguard snorted and eased off the wall, his eyes falling on the one interesting item on the bed, a rather expensive toy for one such as Guy, clearly stolen. The serial number had been cleanly removed by laser.
“What? You got more for me, already? No thanks. I think you almost busted something, big boy,” the disembodied voice retorted with a chuckle.
The man just didn’t learn.
“I’m going. Just remember to be at the club in three hours, the boss wants to talk with you. Don’t fuck it up this time. He doesn’t give second chances.”
Donovan turned casually toward the doorway to check Guy’s proximity as he pocketed the device and sauntered down the hall to the partially turned door of the communal facility.
No one else lived on this level of the rapidly deteriorating building that was once a factory.
He still could not rationalize why he had felt the need to follow the cock sure leader of Bison home, other than to observe the chestnut haired mongrel’s entertaining gait as he tried to walk ahead feigning nonchalance, despite his obvious discomfort.
Blue eyes peered into the modest and surprisingly clean little cubicle with its one source of overhead light. The firmly muscled nude body bent over a pink tinged bowl of water and a soiled rag being rinsed of evidence had been an even bigger surprise.
Donovan felt a stab of guilt as he saw Guy’s profile grimace, entirely oblivious to being observed by the bodyguard, who had noticed the blood on his own cock as he cleaned up with his own sanitized med supplies meant for wounds and the like.
Guy has snorted and refused any assistance as he turned and holstered his own unattended partial erection; his only comment about the perks of being one of the chosen, who always like to keep their hands clean.
The bodyguard shook his head. Guy’s mouth would be his undoing.
Stealthily the minder retreated to the room, the cold metal device in his pocket becoming inordinately heavy. It posed no threat to the organization and was at least two generations behind the current Midas issue.
He threw it back on the bed, along with a few chips of bearer credit before making his escape down the stairs without a word.
Katze would be looking for him by now. The Boss never slept and would have questions. Donovan had seen those cursory looks given by pale knowing eyes.
Some truth was in order, come what may on both their parts.
All seemed quiet as he cut the engine. No one about but the usual stragglers wending their way home after a good night of debauchery, weekly credits earned nullified by overindulgence.
Donovan was thankful for his room on the main floor of the club and its ideal position near the delivery depot. It was the weekend. He did have that in his favor and if habit proved fortuitous, the Boss would still be in bed with the blinds down going over the books and smoking like a chimney.
He checked his own com. No messages; no queries, he was in the clear. A shower, a quick debrief with his men and he would be ready for their meeting - no one truly the wiser.
The quiet hiss as the lock disengaged to his quarters was welcomed as was the familiar darkness which had a pleasing scent.
They had cleaned.
Donovan’s mind wandered back to the dark little hole, Guy called his home. He sighed tiredly and removed his heavy overcoat, throwing it where he knew one of the two chairs would be as he headed to the bathroom and froze mid step.
The scent was distinctive.
A flash of light and a burning hiss caused him to turn. The flame’s caramel glow silhouetted a rigid alabaster countenance before fading to nothingness, leaving in the stillness the fragrant scent of cloves.
“Good Morning, Donovan. How are Guy and your brother? I trust well?”
Right now his sole focus was on the peculiar music box that Katze had gone to great lengths to procure.
Raoul pointedly ignored Deek’s query and dubious offer of assistance, knowing full well why the Furniture had made said – curiosity and fodder for gossip amongst his peers.
Varied tools, some still hermetically sealed, lay in neat clinical rows atop the expansive desk as though prepared for surgery, which in fact they were.
He had gotten it to work briefly the night before with marvelous results. It had taken much studious effort to decipher the antique mechanism’s functions.
Full lips quirked maliciously, the red-head had been fit to be tied when its gentle trill filled the library. Score one Raoul. Oh it was petty to be sure, the thrill it gave the Elite, finally achieving a genuine rise out of the little creature.
Those intriguing eyes had become liquid flames of blinding hate. Unfortunately, the pleasure had been short lived, spoilt by the mongrel’s quick rally.
Yes, Katze was an enigmatic being, unabashedly passionate and yet cold in superficial demeanor.
Such wholly inappropriate pride, intellect and near steely self-control begged to be quashed, it was almost…Elite, for want of better words. Too long in service, that was undoubtedly the reason for the self-possession in one so perfectly imperfect; fascinating.
“Upstart,” Raoul murmured, adjusting his chair and set to work carefully inspecting the object for seams. He chuckled as he turned it on the desk with a finger tip, entirely mesmerized by its neat, aesthetic design. The mechanism’s irritating lack of cooperativeness in revealing its soft underbelly was very familiar.
“Just like your rightful owner.”
“Master Am?”
Raoul looked up suddenly remembering the Furniture’s presence and noting the quickly lowered lids, veiling beady eyes that had been fixed on the Elite’s face with a wealth of suspicion and unspoken censure.
“That will be all, Deek. Be so good as to close the doors on your way out.”
“Yes, Master.”
The response lacked a certain surety however, as the manservant continued to hover obsequiously, awaiting permission to speak.
“What is it, Deek?”
He was long overdue for some personal time and if he chose to spend that time in dismantling this tiresome device before having it sent to the ridiculous ex-Furniture, he would do so. After all, he had returned the glove.
“I beg your indulgence if I am overstepping, Master Am, but it was my understanding that you had a previous social engagement with his Excellency at the penthouse this afternoon?”
A pale brow rose with mild annoyance. He had forgotten.
“Yes, yes…thank you, Deek. I am fully aware of my obligations.”
“Very good… Master Am.”
Raoul looked up sharply from his current task just as the doors seamlessly closed.
Two beats…exactly two beats. It seems they all did it to make some pathetic point when miffed.
Why had he never noticed before?
This wasn’t good.
The mere fact that the boss had left him to attend to whatever with a casually request when done to join him in the usual place was foreboding. He hadn’t even waited for a response to his query.
Message delivered. He knew where Donovan had been.
Donovan knew more than most just how deceptive Katze could be in more than appearance.
This impromptu meeting atop the roof of the club was designed to intimidate. More than one former ally had lost their footing in such discreet meetings.
Now as he stood behind the tall willowy figure that gave off the impression he could so easily be snapped in two by a bracing wind, stood ramrod straight, silhouetted by the slowly rising sun.
Katze was fully aware of the bodyguard’s silent presence but feigned rapt attention with the glimmering horizon as the sun broke through the moisture laden clouds.
The distant beckon that was the central city of Tanagura shimmering in all its gilded, crystalline splendor; nature deifying its inglorious power. Power stolen from perceived lesser humanoid forms such as themselves.
“We’ve been together five years, Donovan. Six, if you count our minor skirmishes before we came to our mutually beneficial understanding.”
Donovan folded his arms across his chest as Katze slowly pivoted on one heel, sun-kissed eyes mere slits as he regarded his most trusted man and inhaled the fragrant smoke.
“I would never betray you, Boss. You’ve kept him safe all this time without asking anything of me. Why would I risk that?”
Whisper soft, the red-head exhaled and returned his gaze to the horizon briefly with a slight incline of his head. “You tell me, Donovan.”
The bodyguard whirled in the direction of the slight movement, catching the briefest of metallic glimmers atop an adjoining roof.
He had given the right answer.
“Now about the newest member of staff, do you want the pleasure of breaking him in or has Guy sapped all your energies?”
“How…”
“Discretion, Donovan. It is a requisite in this organization.”
Katze flicked the butt of his cigarette at the bodyguard’s feet before stepping past him, heading for the stairs.
“I think fifty credits will cover it. Don’t you?”
Donovan sighed. “Yes, Boss.”
“Excellent, now let’s attend to the newbie, the day’s not getting any younger and neither am I.”
For the briefest of moments Donovan turned and regarded the adjoining rooftop where another figure stood, rifle finally at rest. That had been the metallic glimmer he had seen in his peripheral vision.
“Don’t make me regret this, Donovan.”
Their eyes met, gold tinged with a peculiarly threatening light.
“No Boss.”
His mouth was dry.
“Guy! Wake up!”
The loud incessant banging on the makeshift door served only to irritate the dazed leader of Bison as Sid continued to pound, demanding entry.
“Fuck off, already! I’m tryin’ to sleep, here.”
Discretion had never been Guy’s strong suit and the narcotizing effects of one too many stouts, purely for medicinal purposes, had not made his often times challenging thinking process all that clear.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, if you don’t stop, Sid!”
“You won’t believe what we found at the entrance!”
God, his head was pounding and the only way to get the little bastard to stop would be to get up and open the door.
Slowly the chestnut haired mongrel raised his head. He never slept on his stomach and now he had a crick in his neck to add to his current bodily woes. Guy winced as he sat up and got his bearings. It was better than earlier.
Fucking Donovan!
He would teach that cocky shit one of these days, but for now he would live. That’s all that mattered he thought as he staggered to the door and wrenched it open determined to clock the pest.
Familiar cerulean eyes peered up at him excitedly waving a single credit disk in front of his face. “Is this legal? As near as Luke and I can figure, it is! Who’d you take down last night?!”
Slowly grey eyes looked down at the open trunk filled with food, medicine, clothing and sundry items in disarray. Clearly the crew had already been through it, almost picking it clean.
Guy’s eyes narrowed as he gritted his teeth and grabbed Sid by the collar, raising him on his tip toes. Oh those eyes were beyond familiar.
“You and me have an appointment. So go downstairs and get every fuckin’ thing the others took. It’s all going back!”
His movements were graceful, Katze would give him that. At some point he had been exceedingly well trained in servicing. No question, he had been someone’s prized Pet.
Soft mewling accompanied the expert lapping of Donovan’s cock, just enough to heighten the sense of the forbidden while soft, full lips surrounded the bodyguard’s turgid length.
A thin sheen of sweat graced Donovan’s skin as he moaned his pleasure and thrust his hips forward, graceful hands smoothed over well muscled inner thighs encouraged by the stifled moans. Despite his current task, green eyes darted beyond the podium to the still, seated figure smoking quietly with a stoic, analytical expression.
He needed to impress. He needed to show his value. This was the last stop. Only death lay beyond, if he failed.
His hair and dexterous lean form was attractive.
Katze found himself mesmerized by the wealth of rich strawberry blonde tresses, its pallor and its obvious softness. He had cleaned up well. A handsome face, somewhat drawn, but that too would pass with a little care. His price would be high.
The black market dealer saw the come hither look, furtively given beneath lashes. Oh he was good. So good in fact, a quiet, consistent fire thrummed within the dealer’s loins as he carefully crossed his legs to avoid detection.
Donovan groaned as wet lips suckled him and an agile tongue caressed the throbbing vein beneath the head of his cock. He closed his eyes, preferring the vision of another face with equally long tresses, richer in color, darker of visage and grey of eyes.
It was enough. Strong callused fingers stilled the moving head as he came in waves and thrust frantically into the wet, hot orifice.
Katze’s eyes narrowed as he watched Donovan’s trembling lips and the sharp intake of breath upon his release. No question, he was thinking of another.
Sex was never neat.
Something the ex-Furniture had learnt a long time ago in his care of Pets under his former Master’s auspices.
The thick, viscous arc of cum had its place and the stage was best suited for the display, guaranteeing further patronage from those who watched with voyeuristic pleasure.
He would be popular.
The new acquisition would be performing there soon enough with others. Perhaps he would put him with the one of the two females he had in service along with another male – an exotic combination. The possibilities were endless, the combinations equally so. Sufficient masculine to be dominant, but coy enough to receive, he would prove profitable.
Kato, who had stood at the door, awaiting further instructions moved forward hurriedly as Katze beckoned with a long elegant digit.
A shared conspiratorial whisper concluded the performance as Donovan sagged and leaned back on his naked haunches, patting the head of the newly indoctrinated employee, unaware that confused grey eyes observed the finale beyond the doorway as said employee dabbed delicately at pouty reddened lips.
He had succeeded.
Death, averted for another day. He was of value.
Author’s Note
Sorry for the delay, RL has been busy of late. It is my sincere wish that you have enjoyed.
ElegantPaws