by Em and Haylz
NC17 with a light drug use warning
Ashmael goes looking for Pellaz but finds Cal instead, he foolishly tries to annoy Cal – who decides it’s high time he seduced the general and pulls out all the stops… but will Ashmael be able to escape with his dignity (and clothes) intact?
Don’t own any of it, we just like messing with them, especially Ashmael because he’s fun to tease.
We wrote this ages ago but never got around to posting it. I found it as I was playing with my journal and thought others might enjoy it, it was definitely fun to write.
Originally posted to Raythoo, Sept. 2006.
The halls of Phanoica seemed oddly quiet as General Ashmael Aldebaran walked briskly towards the apartments that housed the Tigrons of Immanion. He was hoping for a quick word with Pellaz, but so far the dark haired har was nowhere to be found.
His boots made an awful squeaking sound as they collided with the gleaming marble beneath him, making him cringe. He would have to do something about them later. Squeaky boots were no good for the element of surprise, which was very important in his line of work.
Once he had reached the Tigron’s apartments, he quietly knocked at the door to Pellaz’s office, but received no response from inside.
Glancing around, Ashmael noticed that the door to the main balcony was open, the salty smell of the ocean wafting in and reminding him of his childhood days, spent making castles in the sand and splashing through the waves with relish – how long ago that all was now.
Ashmael strode over to the door, perhaps the Tigron was relaxing outside?
He was outside, only it wasn’t the Tigron Ashmael had been expecting.
Cal looked the picture of relaxation, his lean body reclining on a padded bench, bare feet propped up on the balcony railing and by the serene expression on his face, and the sickly sweet smell in the air, Ashmael knew it wasn’t tobacco the Tigron was smoking.
The general couldn’t help but run his eyes over the peaceful looking har, the ripped, faded jeans that sat perfectly beneath his hips, which were as smooth and tanned as the bare chest that peeked out from the gauzy looking white shirt he wore, open of course.
He appeared to be watching the sun going down behind the mountains, the last lingering rays gliding across his half lidded eyes and through the golden locks of hair that danced in the gentle breeze.
Must he always look so damn good?
Cal lazily turned his head to wards Ashmael, smiling as he blew smoke through his lips. “General.”
Ashmael sat himself down on the bench opposite, a table holding an open bottle of wine and some glasses sitting between them.
“Calanthe,” he replied politely.
Cal swung his legs around to sit on the bench properly. “Wine?” he offered, not waiting for a reply before pouring the general a healthy measure of the pale, bubbling liquid. “What can I do for you? Or is this purely a social visit?” The grin on his face was both maddening and appealing.
“Actually, I was looking for Pellaz,” Ashmael replied, before taking a sip of the sweet beverage. “Where is your better half anyhow?”
“We are meeting up later,” Cal said, in a non committal tone.
The general saw an opportunity to ruffle the ever so calm Tigron. “Ah what’s this? You mean you don’t know where your beloved is?”
Cal’s expression didn’t change. “If you must know, he and Caeru are visiting with Abrimel. Some quality family time if you know what I mean.” He winked at the general, clearly not bothered.
“Aw, and you weren’t invited?” Ashmael tried to keep the smug tone out of his voice, but also wanting to make Cal squirm.
Cal just snorted, relaxing back on the bench. “I’m always invited, don’t worry about that.”
Ashmael chuckled, then watched, mesmerised as Cal tipped his head back and released a perfect smoke ring.
The Tigron felt Ashmael watching and turned to smile at him, holding out the neatly rolled cigarette he was smoking. “Care to join me, General?”
Ashmael held up his hands and shook his head, “Not for me, thanks tiahaar.”
Cal let out a low chuckle which immediately both irritated Ashmael and sent a jolt through his system.
“Really, Ash?” Cal asked, reclining back down and inhaling from the cigarette. “I wouldn’t have thought you were a puritan.” He stretched languidly.
Ashmael rested his forearms on his knees. “Not a puritan, tiaharr,” he answered politely. “I just like to have a clear head.”
Cal watched him from the corner of his eye, one arm behind his head and said carefully, “You might find it helps to dull certain…. memories.”
Ashmael narrowed his eyes. What was Cal implying? “Not all of us have memories we want to dull.”
“Vaysh might see things differently.”
Ashmael bristled. “What?”
Cal was the picture of nonchalance. He shrugged. “His cold facade, your bravado…”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Cal feigned surprise and sat up. “General!”
Ashmael grimaced, swallowing his anger, annoyed at himself for allowing Cal to manipulate him. “I apologise, tiahaar. I was out of line.”
“Nonsense!” Cal help out the cigarette. “Come on, General. Let your hair down. You are off duty, aren’t you?”
Ashmael thought about declining again but decided Cal’s relaxed demeanour was all too appealing. The Tigron’s comments about Vaysh had shocked Ashmael, Cal was the last person he would have thought would bring the subject up, though he shouldn’t have been surprised that Cal knew all about it. Ashmael accepted the proffered smoke with a smile and inhaled deeply from it.
Cal grinned as he stood up and padded inside, disappearing through the swirl of curtains which separated the balcony from the apartment. He reappeared a moment later holding a small bag and held it up for inspection. He quirked an eyebrow at Ashmael. “Only the best for the Tigron.”
Ashmael snorted, already feeling the drug seeping through his system. He couldn’t help but admire Cal from his position. The Tigron’s denim trousers hung dangerously low on his hips and Ashmael realised they were barely buttoned. His stomach was flat and firm, and his skin held the same glow that radiated from Pellaz. Ashmael forced himself to look away, aware that for perhaps the first time he was beginning to really grasp why Cal had the reputation of being utterly irresistible.
Cal tossed the bag on the table, and refilled both their glasses before sitting back down across from Ashmael. He then opened the bag and held it up to his face, breathing in the rich aroma. “So tell me,” he said breezily, carefully laying out some of the green contents from the bag onto a small rectangle of paper that had been set up on the table. “What did you need to see Pell for anyway?”
“Nothing you would be interested in Tiahaar,” Ashmael sniffed. “I wouldn’t want to drag you down when you are so obviously enjoying yourself.” The General took a gulp of wine from his glass, the cool liquid feeling nice on his burning throat.
“Come now Ash, anything you can tell Pellaz you can tell me too. I am Tigron also, am I not?” Cal said, smiling to himself.
Ashmael laughed quietly. “Calanthe, you may play the part well, but everyhar knows that Pellaz is the only true ruler. Let him worry about the boring stuff while you carry on enjoying the benefits of being Tigron, enjoying all this.” He waved his arm towards the table.
Unbelievably, this comment still didn’t get a rise out of the placid creature that sat across from him. Cal just grinned. “Why General, I feel like I should be offended!” he said, looking anything but. “I would have thought you of all hara would agree that I have proved myself by now.” He brought the now full piece of paper to up to his lips, never taking his eyes off Ashmael’s as his tongue darted out and ever so slowly ran along the edge.
The general shifted in his seat. He had no response to that, he did have to agree that had it not been for Cal, events past may have turned out very differently – and not in a good way.
Cal ignored the other har’s discomfort. “It may interest you to know that I actually don’t care what anyhar thinks about it. Pell and I both know that we are equal, this understanding runs very deep.” He said conversationally, rolling the cigarette with utter precision between his fingers. “I guess it’s just something no har else really gets. Though they wouldn’t, would they? Our relationship is… unique.” He smiled lazily at Ashmael.
It was on the tip of Ashmael’s tongue to ask just how unique that relationship was and he coughed slightly as he exhaled a smoke filled breath. Cal’s heavy lidded eyes were sparkling at him amusedly and Ashmael shifted in his seat intent on steering the conversation onto more solid ground. He wasn’t sure what Cal was planning, and more alarmingly, the curling warmth in his belly told Ashmael he might not really mind.
“Yes, well, I know the hegemony is definetly getting used to having you around,” Ashmael said conversationally. “You’ve certaintly won…”
He trailed off and lost his train of thought completely when Cal suddenly stood up and stipped off the flimsy excuse for a shirt he was wearing before throwing it in the direction of the apartment door. Fully aware of the effect he was having, Cal smiled in a feline way as he stretched himself out on his chair again.
“Hot,” he offered.
Ashmael decided the game had gone on long enough. “You’re not going to get me into bed, tiahaar.”
Cal merely rolled his eyes. “Alderbaran, you’re ruining my seduction.”
The general laughed and snatched the smoking cigarette Cal had left in the ashtray. “That’s just it. I’m simply saying now that I’ve no intention of staying here tonight.”
Cal gave him a sideways glance that told Ashmael exactly what he thought of that declaration. He picked up his glass and swallowed the rest of its contents in one easy gulp, refusing to make any reply to Ashmael’s comments.
Ashmael was exhasperated. “I thought you said Pell would be back soon.”
“So?” Cal refilled his glass before shoving the table between them away slightly with his foot. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with our plans.”
Ashmael wanted to put his head in his hands. Fighting off Cal’s attraction was like banging his head against a brick wall. The worst part was, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to push the other har away. If he was completely honest, Ashmael had long been curious about Calanthe’s arunic prowess.
As if sensing his thoughts Cal flashed a predatory grin, he eyes blatantly wandering over Ashmael’s body. “I’m very good,” he murmured. He sat back and at the same time lifted a foot across the now open space between them and rested it lightly on Ashmael’s bent knee. “Admit it, General. You’ve always wanted to know what both Tigrons are like in bed.”
Ashmael gulped, glancing down at the tanned foot. “Well,” he said with difficulty. “You’ve obviously thought about it before.” He raised his glass to his lips.
Cal made no show of modesty. “Indeed I have!” he said. “I have what I suppose you would call… a little fetish.” He slowly began to circle the general’s knee with his foot. “I enjoy aruna with hara that have been with my beloved.” A mischievous glint appeared in his eye. “Remind me to get Vaysh up here alone one day.”
Ashmael nearly choked on his wine, and pushed Cal’s foot away angrily. “I don’t know what you are trying to achieve Calanthe, but it’s not going to work.”
Not realizing he was doing it, Ashmael gritted his teeth and formed a fist in his free hand, he was shaking. He was about to get up and leave when he noticed what Cal was doing.
When the general had pushed him away, wine from Cal’s glass had tumbled out and now ran down his naked chest. Cal simply ran a finger slowly through the liquid, circling a nipple before placing the finger in his mouth, thoroughly enjoying the taste, it seemed.
Crossing his legs, Ashmael coughed. Though he was desperate to get away, he found that he was unable to move from his seat. The scowl remained on his face however.
Noticing this, Cal sighed dramatically. “Oh calm down Ash! I don’t know why you should care so much; didn’t you discard that poor har as if he was nothing a long time ago?” He sat back to enjoy the general’s reaction.
“How dare you,” Ashmael muttered. “If anyhar should understand my position, it is you.”
Cal calmly took another hit of his cigarette. “Ah if you are implying what happened between Pell and I, let me remind you – I fought my way back to him and accepted him as he was. I couldn’t simply just let go of our love like that. Perhaps the love you felt for Vaysh was never as strong as you once believed? I couldn’t even imagine casting Pellaz aside like that.”
Ashmael steeled himself. Looking at the infuriatingly casual expression on Cal’s face, he had never wanted to both strangle and straddle a har in equal measures. “You are right,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t know why it should bother me that Pellaz took aruna with Vaysh. After all,” he added icily. “Who hasn’t Pell taken aruna with?”
Just to annoy him it seemed, Cal merely laughed heartily. “Yes, he is an insatiable little wench isn’t he?” Carefully, he moved his foot back to the general’s knee. “But he’s so good at it. Magnificent to watch too,” he added in a gravely voice, slowly moving his foot up and along Ashmael’s thigh.
Ashmael felt a sharp pull in his stomach, his breaths coming a little faster.
“In fact,” Cal said touching a finger to his lips to appear thoughtful. “I don’t know what I enjoy more sometimes – ravishing Pell myself, or watching him do it to somehar else.”
Ashmael groaned inwardly, and couldn’t help imagining himself in a situation with both Tigrons. Separately, their seduction was equally terrifying – together, they would just be plain devastating.
Cal’s foot was edging closer and closer to the general’s groin area, as he continued. “Either way, Pellaz always looks directly into my eyes just as he-”
“OK I GET IT!” Ashmael bellowed as he leapt up off the seat, knocking Cal’s foot away again. He leaned against the balcony railing for support, turning to face the ocean and breathe in huge gulps of much needed air.
He immediately tensed when he heard the Tigron’s low chuckle behind him. Cal had gotten to him, and both of them knew it.
His loss of control irked him, how easily he had fallen into the trap.
He tensed even more when he felt an impossibly warm body press itself up against his back. “Cal… don’t,” he managed to say weakly.
“Resistance is futile, General.”
The whispered words tickled his neck and sent a delicious shiver down his spine.
Ashmael closed his eyes. Yes, he’d known that from the beginning of this cat and mouse game in which he’d intended on being the cat. His pride refused to let him give up though, he couldn’t help replying. “What’s the matter Cal? Your precious Tigron not putting out enough?”
Cal just laughed throatily at the feeble attempt as he lightly placed his lips on the back of the general’s neck. “Pell denies me nothing, you know that.”
Ashmael sighed and leaned back into the Tigron has he finally had to admit defeat.
One of Cal’s hands snaked around to cup Ashmael’s jaw and tilt the general’s face to the side for easier access. Ashmael relented and opened his mouth to share breath with the Tigron, his fingers still gripping the railing tightly. Cal’s tongue slipped into Ashmael’s mouth along with his breath as his lips moved over Ashmael’s, When he was released Ashmael could do little but let his head drop down and gasp for breath. He wasn’t sure if it was a combination of the wine and the drug that filled his blood or simply Cal himself, but the Tigron’s breath was intoxicating.
Cal’s tongue traced along the skin of Ashmael’s neck, teasing as he took advantage of the general’s overwhelmed state to make light work of his clothes. Cal’s fingers skated down Ashmael’s chest and he deflty undid the buttons holding Ashmael’s shirt together.
“I’ve always wanted to strip the wings off the Angel of Immanion,” Cal breathed into Ashmael’s ear, causing him to shudder.
He let out a soft groan as, only half consciously, he shrugged his shoulders so Cal could slip his shirt down his arms. Ashmael could feel practically all the blood in his body pooling in his midsection as Cal’s hands slid over his exposed skin. They shared breath again, though this time Ashmael was more prepared and gave as much as he took which caused Cal to let out a groan of his own.
The Tigron pulled away. “General, I do believe you were playing hard to get.” He lapped at Ashmael’s open mouth, letting out a delighted laugh.
Ashmael’s first instint was to argue, though he realised this would take entirely too much effort and instead focused his attention on Cal’s mouth that was tantilisingly out of reach. Cal pushed him against the railing and Ashmael could feel his hardness pressing into him. This time he did argue, managing to gasp out, “Hey, I’m on top here, tiahaar.”
Cal’s laugh was maddenly light as he allowed Ashmael to turn in his arms. “Let’s not fight about this.”
Ashmael hissed as he caught sight of Cal’s darkened eyes and flushed face. With a snarl he shoved Cal backwards until the Tigron was trapped against the exterior wall.
Cal didn’t complain. “Kinky,” he quipped before grabbed hold of Ashmael’s hips to pull him closer.
They shared breath and Ashmael quickly lost any sense of where he was. All he was aware of was the taste of Cal all around him and filling him, his hands gripping, sliding over skin. Cal bit Ashmael’s bottom lip causing Ashmael to half laugh, half yelp in pain. Perhaps Cal as soume would be as dangerous as an ouana Cal?
The Tigron forced them away from the wall and nudged Ashmael onto the lounger he had been sitting on earlier. Then, deflty straddling him, Cal forced Ashmael’s head to tip back as he pressed his mouth against the other hars. Ashmael’s fingers gripped Cal’s thighs tightly as the Tigron rocked above him, wondering momentarily why he had bothered curbing Cal’s advances at all.
Yes, Cal’s soume side was deadly indeed.
Feeling like he needed at least some control of the situation, Ashmael used his strength to roll the writhing har around so that he was now pinned on the seat, and the general slipped off him, gasping for breath.
Keeping his eyes glued to the Tigron, Ashmael quickly undid his pants, tugging them down so that he was fully exposed to Cal.
Cal smiled appreciatively. “Nice.”
Ashmael moved forwards, balancing on the seat using his knees either side of Cal’s thighs for support.
As he pushed himself towards the Tigron’s face, Cal suddenly realized what he was planning. “No, not that.”
The expression on his face told the general that he wasn’t teasing.
“Why?!” Ashmael gasped, badly needing to be touched.
Cal relaxed and smiled at him. “That is something I only do for Pell, and he for me.”
Damn, the general thought. There goes one fantasy that will never be fulfilled.
Quickly trying to cover up his disappointment, Ashmael smirked. “Well, it’s good to know that at least some things are sacred between you two.”
Cal laughed. “Some things are just too good to share,” he said teasingly.
Before Ashmael could growl in response, Cal gently pushed him backwards and then stood up. He undid the remaining buttons on his jeans and slid them down slightly, turning around so that the General could see the top of his perfectly formed golden buttocks.
“Coming?” Cal purred, as he moved towards the door, swinging his hips seductively.
Ashmael rubbed his hands over his face as Cal disappeared through the curtians and into the royal apartment. In an attempt to fortify himself he grabbed the open bottle of wine from the abandoned table and took a hefty swig. Grimacing against the bubbles he gasped for breath as he scanned the horizon which was now considerably darker than it had been when he arrived.
He heard a husky call float through the open door. “Alderbaran…”
Ashmael’s ouana-lim seemed tied to the voice and he was through the doorway in an instant. What he saw upon reaching the threshhold made him wish the night had proceeded without the help of the smoke and drink. He wanted to be sober enough to remember the sight in front of him.
Calanthe, Tigron of Immanion lay sprawled against the numerous cushions piled in a daybed which sat against one wall. His face was sly and pleased; his eyes dark which betrayed to Ashmael that perhaps Cal had been planning on being the submissive part of this union all along. Cal’s legs were parted slightly and Ashmael could see his soume-lam gleaming in the softly in the dim light. It made him want to get on his knees and worship the har before him.
So he did.
Ashmael knelt before the Tigron, ignoring his own desire to remove the remainder of his own clothes, and ran his hands up Cal’s smooth legs. Cal grinned encouragingly and opened them wider.
“I knew you’d come around, General.”
Ashmael made no comment, but remembering Cal’s warning about…. oral minstrations, rested his face against the Tigrons belly. He breathed in as Cal’s hands sifted through his hair.
Surely no har could be this intoxicating? When Ashmael had taken aruna with Pellaz the other har had been nearly overwhelming but Cal was…. no. He couldn’t think. Cal was taking away his ability to analyise anything coherently.
Instead Ashmael continued his hands’ exploration up Cal’s legs, his thumbs brushing Cal’s inner thighs. Ashmael’s touch came into light contact with Cal’s soume-lam feeling the slippery essense that leaked out of the Tigron.
Cal hissed, arching his back and he let out a breathy moan. He smiled like a cheshire cat. “Oooh, General. Did they teach you all your skills at military school?”
Ashmael didn’t answer; he didn’t feel capable of speech. Instead he traced his tongue around Cal’s taut belly as he investigated the Tigron’s soume-lam further with his fingers.
Cal encouraged him, clutching the general’s hair tightly now as he groaned deeply.
The general felt himself being dragged upwards, it seemed Cal wanted to share breath, and what Cal wants – Cal gets.
The Tigron’s breath was overwhelming, Ashmael felt as though he had left his own body and was flying through an endless gauntlet of bright colours and exploding stars. He had to wonder whether if he’d even survive aruna with this har. How was it that Pellaz still lived? The answer flashed in his own mind – of course Pellaz could handle it, for he and Cal were the same.
Drunk on the feeling of his skin slipping against Cal’s, Ashmael barely noticed when the Tigron wrapped his legs behind the general’s back, gripping him in a tight embrace. Cal urged him forwards, apparently he was ready.
Ashmael didn’t know if he would ever truly be ready, but there was no turning back now. He couldn’t help the shudders that racked his body as he slowly pressed himself into the waiting Tigron.
Cal let out a most sensual cry of pleasure as he finally got the general exactly where he wanted him. He was looking up at Ashmael with the most infuriatingly smug grin on his face, if he wasn’t so enraptured, Ashmael could have slapped him for it.
Instead he thrust himself forward with as much force as he could muster, enjoying how the expression on Cal’s face changed quickly from smug to surprised, and then to ecstatic.
Continuing in this fashion, Ashmael was struggling to keep hold of himself; the Tigron felt unimaginably good. Just as the general thought he might be on top of the situation, Cal launched his attack.
“Oh my GOD!” Ashmael burst out, using a word he hadn’t even thought of in many decades.
The Tigron was holding him even tighter now, both with his legs and his soume-lam. Inside him, his body was contracting around the general with a vice like grip, pulsing in and out, caressing Ashmael’s ouana-lim gently.
Cal’s finger nails were digging into Ashmael’s back as the Tigron arched his back.. Cal raised his head and bit hard when his mouth found Ashmael’s shoulder. The general yelped, but couldn’t deny the surge the pain sent through his system.
Cal was grinning and he panted happily, “I can see…. nohar warned you about me, Aldabaran.”
Ashmael was quite above mere speech at that moment as Cal’s inner muscles flittered about him in a way which caused his eyes to roll back. Hearing Cal’s laugh dimly in his ears, Ashmael felt the world suddenly tilt and he cried out as he found himself on his back with Cal above him. Ashmael couldn’t help the groan that escaped as he watched the other har rock above him. Cal braced his hands against Ashmael’s chest; eyes closed, mouth open.
“By the Dehar,” Ashmael groaned. “You are going to kill me.”
Cal leant down. “Only a little,” he murmered before his breath snaked into Ashmael’s mouth.
When Cal straightened Ashmael couldn’t help taking advantage of Cal’s apparent ecasty filled lapse in control. “And you say Pellaz is the one who can’t be satisfied?”
Without warning Cal’s hand lashed out and he slapped Ashmael hard across the face. Ashmael’s head cracked to the side and he swore loudly, a hand coming up to cup his bruised face. “What the fuck?”
Cal had stilled, though his inner muscles still held Ashmael tightly. “How dare you speak to me like that, tiaharr!” Cal declared. “Don’t you know your Tigron demands respect?”
If Cal’s twinkling eyes were not enought, Ashmael already knew the blond Tigron regarded his royal-like status as something slightly comical. It was on Ashmael’s mind to answer Cal with something submissive, but his pride still wouldn’t let him. Besides, he got the feeling that was not the response the Tigron really wanted.
The general’s eyes narrowed and his lips curled in a snarl, with a growl he flipped them both back over so he was above Cal once more. He thrust deeper into the blond har beneath him and was rewarded with a low groan. Ashmael realised he was beginning to understand the strange rules of Cal’s game. He grabbed one of Cal’s legs behind the knee and hauled it up for better leverage. He leaned in close to Cal’s face which was dark with pleasure and hissed in a low voice, “Is that right, Tigron?”
This time it was Cal who was speechless, he let out a wordless sound of delight, his head tipping back against the cushions as Ashmael continued to thrust into him. Ashmael ran his tongue up this smooth expanse of Cal’s exposed neck before latched onto his earlobe and nipping none too gently.
“You like that, do you, Calanthe?” he whispered, and was answered by Cal’s fingers digging sharplying into his shoulders.
Cal’s thighs gripped Ashmael tightly and soon they were both lost for words, a deeper connection replacing the need to voice their thoughts. Their breath mingled without the action of touching lips as they both panted sharply, faces close together. Cal tasted of the alcohol and smoke, and something that vaugely reminded Ashmael of Pellaz. The Tigron was pulling Ashmael down into a vortex that was entirely primal and all consuming. The general felt the walls of Phaonica could come down around them and he wouldn’t notice, let alone care.
All too soon it seemed, they reached their peak and the flickering tongue shot out to ignite their combined orgasm. Ashmael let out a cry disappointment that it couldn’t last longer, but it was quickly swept away by the waves of pleasure that crashed over them both.
When he reganed his senses Ashmael was collapsed down onto Cal, their bodies slick with sweat. He rested a moment, his face pressed into Cal’s neck, to catch his breath. “Oh, Aghama,” he groaned.
Cal reached up to sift his hands through Ashmael’s hair. He lifted the General’s head and pressed his mouth to Ashmael’s blowing calming breath into the disoriented har. “Invigorating, isn’t it?” He laughed lightly.
Ashmael gave him a bewildered look, slightly confused as to how Cal had got his breath back so fast but none the less had to agree. Despite his lack of breath, Ashmael felt infused with energy and strength. If taking aruna with Cal was like this every time, he could see it becoming a drug he couldn’t get enough of. He rolled away from Cal and stared at the celing. He silently watched as Cal sat up and lit a cigarette he produced from somewhere. The Tigron inhaled a healthy drag and sighed contentedly.
Ashmael finally found his voice. “Well, Cal, I must say you certainly live up to expectations.”
Cal laughed out loud. “I should hope so!”
“Though, technically, you did take advantage of me.”
“Really?” Cal leaned over Ashmael and expelled smoke filled breath into the other har’s mouth. “Alderbaran, you’ve wanted me since the first moment I arrived at your place in Immanion. And I’ve wanted you. Simple.”
The taste of Cal in his mouth made heat curl in Ashmael’s belly anew but Cal pulled away and stood up. He strolled out onto the balcony, apparently indifferent to clothing completely. Left lying alone inside, Ashmael suddenly became aware of where he was and how much he did not want to be caught here in his current state of dress by the other Tigron should Pellaz choose to arrive at any moment. He abruptly got up and dressed quickly. The aruna filled haze that now clouded the room was making him forget why he’d even entered the Tigrons’ apartment in the first place. He had wanted to talk to Pell… or had he?
Either way, the evening had turned out quite nicely!
He was about to leave when Cal appeared in the doorway again, blessedly naked and glowing. “Leaving so soon? One could feel used!”
Ashmael shook his head but couldn’t hide his smile when he answered, “The only one feeling used here would be me, tiahaar.”
Cal strolled forward grinning. “Oh, I don’t think so, General,” He drawled and Ashmael did not resist when Cal leant into him and sloppily shared breath with him.
He pulled away after a moment however and turning away he moved to the door.
“I’ll tell Pell you stopped by, shall I?” Cal called.
Ashmael ignored him and opened the main door to leave. Suddenly he stopped short as he nearly bumped into a har apparently just entering the apartment.
Pellaz stood before him with a bemused expression on his face. “Ash,” He said.
Ashmael was glad for his self control, certain otherwise he would have turned bright red. “I… I came to speak to you,” He said.
Pellaz breezed past him into the apartment. “Oh? What about?”
Ashmael turned to watch him walk further inside and saw Cal emerge from further in the apartment, this time redressed in his jeans. Cal strolled over to Pell and light wrapped his arms around the Tigron from behind.
Ashmael shook his head. “Oh, nothing. It can wait.” He tried to tear his eyes away from Pell who was now clearly being distracted by Cal who was whispering in his ear. He coughed. “I’ll leave you, then.”
He paused for a second but got no response from either Cal nor Pell who now had his head tipped back and his eyes closed. Cal glanced up and met Ashmael’s eyes, grinning slyly. One of his hands smoothed down across Pell’s chest to his stomach. Ashmael swallowed hard and with some difficulty turned and walked out the door.
Standing outside the apartment he breathed hard, half tempted to go back inside. His body was aching as if he had not just taken intense aruna with Cal but he stilled himself. Aruna with Pellaz and probably wasn’t a good idea after what he’d just experienced. Besides, they would not want him around anyway. He sighed heavily and walked back down the corridor, his shoes squeeking lightly on the marble as he went.