Chapter 32 – Love and Loathing #3

His eyelids fluttered, but the black of his stare stayed pinned on me. You're perfect, I thought; a few weeks ago, I would have said it.

But he wasn't. He wasn't, and I could spend forever studying his imperfections.

I knew he liked to have me seated deep inside of him, that he could come just from shifting around my buried cock.

I drew my hips back, dragging out just a little before thrusting back in, a compromise for us both – but it didn't feel like a compromise.

It felt almost miraculous, his body pliant and responsive beneath mine, his stare devouring me, just like I'd demanded.

A sound like a gasp tore from of Araxis, and I thrust into him, his channel like a vise around my dick – tight and perfectly slick, the ridges that ran along the inside of his body quivering around my shaft.

I continued to pump into him, gentle, each movement tearing a moan from his lovely white throat.

Heat coiled deep in my belly, tightening with every breath; my whole body ached, hot and alive, as I rocked into him in shallow little thrusts that had him squirming beneath me.

He made a sharp, startled sound, and then he spasmed around me: slick gushed from his slit, enveloping my cock as each angle of his channel tightened, holding me in place.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my hands bracing his legs as I shifted him beneath me.

His cock slipped free from the secret depths of his body, pink and glistening between us, and I moved one of my hands from the back of his thigh to his eager length.

"Can I keep fucking you?" I asked, low, even as my hips ground against him unbidden, enjoying the grip he had on me as I tried to shift; like a tight fist, slicked perfectly. He was flushed beneath me, eyes glassy, the pattern of his skin almost glowing in the dim light.

"Yes," he said. "Please."

I curled my body forward so that I could thrust into him with more power, so that I could kiss his swollen mouth and feel his gasps against my sweat-sheened skin.

My hips snapped hard, driving into him with urgency; one hand rested beside his head, the other fisting his glistening dick as I stroked him.

Sharp sparks of pleasure ripped through me as I thrust, deeper and deeper; he was all around me, his body tight and wet and pulling me further, faster, harder.

I traced my mouth along the edge of one pointed ear, and his tongue swiped at the place where he'd marked me, where there was a fading impression of his teeth on my skin.

All in a rush, I wanted that. I wanted him. I wanted to be his. Maybe that's what I'd wanted all along; maybe I needed to be marked, owned, controlled. Maybe everyone had always been right about me. I needed it.

"Go on," I murmured, voice raw as I drove into him, hips stuttering as desire sharpened in me like a knife. "Bite me. Mark me."

His chest rumbled, a deep vibration that quivered through his entire body, his flesh shivering around my cock as I snapped my hips against him. I was close, heat tugging hard at my balls, tightening my skin. Araxis's mouth pressed against my soft skin, but no spark of pain came.

"Come on," I breathed into his ear. "Please." He writhed beneath me, and the change in angle meant that I could bottom out in him with each hard thrust, the slap of our skin muffled by the blankets still rucked around us.

He shook his head against me, even as his hands grabbed for my waist, urging me deeper, faster, harder.

"Why," I gasped against his flushed throat.

"We – hn," his words came out breathy, gasping. "We haven't talked yet." And he swiped an apologetic tongue over my neck.

He was right. He was right, and all at once I felt a wash of affection and yearning so strong and profound that I found myself babbling in English, "I love you, and I'm so fucking mad at you, and I love you so much. Araxis –"

He murmured something in abayan into the tender skin of my neck.

One hand moved so he could press a thumb into the mark, dig it in until I felt the ache, sweet and painful all at once as I sank into him and then, in a bright explosion of pleasure, I came, pumping into him.

At once, his cock spasmed in my hand, and his channel clenched around me and he cried out, my hips stuttering against him as I emptied myself into him.

I tilted my head and kissed him then, frantic, insistent, and he moaned into my mouth as our bodies shuddered together in the drawn out aftermath.

My weight slumped on top of him, my dick still buried inside of his slit even as his own retreated gently into the protection of his body.

I kissed him slow and careful, finally shifting to roll to one side and slip out of him.

My muscles were trembling – not just in my arms, but everywhere – as I drew him tight against my chest, sliding my hands up to his face to cradle him.

We watched each other for a long time, lit dimly by the gradual brightening of ambient lights in the living room.

His hands stroked my arms, my neck, my chest, slipping beneath the edge of my rumpled shirt.

There were a thousand things I wanted to say to him, but I couldn't decide where to start so I said nothing at all.

After all, he'd asked me if we could pretend nothing outside of this room existed, just for now.

And it turned out that I wanted exactly the same thing.

To be with him, to feel the connection between us as a palpable and living thing.

I knew the moment we left this reverie, we'd see the fissures in what we had; we'd see how we had twisted it and wrenched it until it was only a husk of what it could have been.

And maybe it would be enough; maybe there was enough life left in it that we could bring it back.

We could nurture this tether of ours, make it something good and whole.

Or maybe it was too far gone, the damage too deep, the toxins set in past the point of healing.

I didn't know then. And I don't know now.

But in the quiet morning with him, I could let all of that fall away and just be, in my own meagre way, at peace as Araxis of Creche Thiel pressed kisses to the corner of my mouth, the edge of my jaw, my eyelids, my throat, and told me things in his own language that he couldn't yet say to me in one I understood.

I think I understood him all the same.

You know the rest, don't you?

We did have to leave our reverie. We made the bed; we bathed; we dressed.

I pulled on the green jumpsuit I'd worn when I first met him and was pleased I couldn't see the weird tea stain any more, throwing on one of my lumpier sweaters with a burn mark in one cuff.

I felt scruffy and bleary-eyed, and more like the Sashen of Yellow Fin than I had in weeks.

We moved around each other in careful orbits, not touching.

We drank tea; we ate. What we didn't do was speak beyond basic communication.

It felt as if we both knew that, if we looked at each other the wrong way, if we said one wrong word, we could fuck it all up.

There was a fragility to that morning before we came here.

I wanted more time: I wanted time to talk, to find our footing, to understand why things had happened the way they had.

But we didn't have time. You called and so we had to come. We picked up our bags, which we hadn't even unpacked, and left the suite, heading back to Araxis's shuttle. We departed and then Araxis set us on a course to the judiciary ship.

On the way, I unclipped myself from the seat and curled up, instead, on the floor next to his chair, tipping my head against his thigh.

He threaded his fingers through my hair, stroking me gently as we drew closer and closer to your ship.

I wanted to be so close to him that I forgot where his body ended and mine began.

I wanted to be so close that I understood exactly why he'd made the choices he had, and he understood why they'd hurt me so badly, and we could, in our understanding of one another, be at peace.

But it doesn't work like that, does it? There isn't perfect understanding.

You can't crawl inside someone and make their nooks and crannies your home.

You have to reach out, again and again; you have to fail and pick yourself up and keep trying, all on your own.

And you just have to hope that whoever you're reaching for is also stretching a hand toward you.

I said I wanted to know his imperfections, and I do. I think we're probably made by our imperfections. The question was… The question is if I can love him for them, knowing what they cost me and how deeply they cut.

It wasn't a long flight to the judiciary ship.

I pushed myself back up into my seat as we approached, and Araxis sent our identifying information and we docked.

Just before we stepped out into the airlock, he stopped me.

"I do understand what you said, Sashen," he murmured.

"We will talk, if that is what you want.

The two of us. I know I have a great deal to explain, and you will have many questions.

And I want you to know that… I have heard you, and I will respect what you have asked of me. "

"Okay," I said, not sure I believed him. "I'll see you as soon as our interviews are over, then."

His eyes were like liquid ink as he looked at me, shimmering in the flickering lights of the shuttle. "I hope so," he said.

A spike of panic took my breath away. "What do you mean? You don't think they'll keep us apart –"

His eyes pinched with worry. "No, Sashen. I just wonder if you will wish to see me, after you recount… everything. You may wish to have more time. Or – I am certain, if I asked, that Creche Athal would offer you space on their ship. I could speak with Lauvis… if that is what you want in the end."

I suppressed a sigh. I wanted him to stop thinking three steps ahead.

I wanted him to wait for me to catch up so we could walk together.

"Of course I'll want to see you," I said carefully.

"We're going to talk. It's not like telling the justiciar everything is going to make it any worse, Araxis.

I'm not going to decide partway through our story that I never want to see you again.

We're going to sit down and we're going to figure it out together. "

He tried for a smile, but he wasn't a practiced professional like me, so he just looked miserable instead. I hated to see him like that, no matter how much he deserved it, so I kissed him as the airlock beyond the shuttle doors pressurized, and I held him close and I breathed him in.

And now you know everything.

I'm ready to see him now.

[Interview concluded]

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