136. An Imaginary Future
136
An Imaginary Future
W illow
“Valor, sit here,” I say, pointing to the chair I vacated, the one next to Braveheart.
I’m stroking Braveheart’s softly furred purple chest, but need to connect even more with him. Reaching up, I kiss his cheek.
“I love you,” I say. I could have whispered it, kept it a secret from Valor, but that’s not what I want.
I nestle closer, my hip next to Braveheart’s belly, and lift my feet onto Valor’s thigh.
“I love you both.”
It’s a fact. Now that the words have been said, when I roll them around in my mind and test their veracity, I know them to be my truth. If someone had asked me back on Earth if it would be possible, not only would I have said ‘no’, I would have judged.
Today? I know not only is it possible, but it’s the right thing.
Braveheart’s arms encircle me and he nuzzles the top of my head with his lips. I don’t need to glance at Valor to see how he took the news. He untied my boots and is tenderly massaging my feet.
We’re silent for a moment, as if the pieces of the puzzle of our lives are rearranging themselves. If we weren’t contemplating our imminent death, I’d describe this moment as peaceful.
“I love you both, too,” Valor says, purposely saying it out loud and not through mindspeak. Cameras be damned.
I don’t glance at the screens, but I imagine our totes are spinning. This assuages the viewing public’s guilt, and TGN is gathering credits like Midas.
Braveheart removes his hand from the small of my back where he’s been rubbing in soft circles, and reaches over to his friend, hugging him tight. I watch as Valor stops his foot massage and embraces his friend. This isn’t one of those awkward manhugs I see in sitcoms. It’s a genuine, unabashed expression of affection between two people. It brings a smile to my lips.
“Lightning round,” I say, wanting to keep us out of maudlin territory. “If we weren’t going to die today, what would you want to do?”
“Have sex,” Braveheart whispers boldly in my ear.
I laugh. “What a stupid question. Why did I even ask it?”
“What did I miss?” Valor asks.
“Take a guess.”
“Oh,” he says, but I feel no anger coming from him, just amusement. It’s not that Braveheart wanted it, but how fast he admitted to it. “And you, Willow? What would you want?”
I don’t respond as quickly as Braveheart, but the answer pops into my mind like lightning.
Link the three of us, I say to Valor. When I feel the connection, I flash them both a picture of the three of us in bed. It’s a timid picture with no moving parts and all of us still wearing these heinous crimson coveralls, but the meaning is clear.
Valor pushes a gust of his lust at me. I don’t need a psychic connection with Braveheart. His thick cock pressing against my hip is a clear enough message.
“You guys may have the animal DNA, but it turns out we’re all animals,” I quip.
But we can’t keep the lighthearted mood, knowing our time is slipping away like the sands of an hourglass.
I wiggle my feet, a subtle hint for my strong, caring Valor to get back to work. Then I allow myself to imagine a completely different future. While my future can be counted in minutes, the future I’m imagining is if time could stretch out before me in a different way.
There’s something about sitting on the top of this plateau, looking out at the scenery, or lack thereof, that makes me think of sitting on a porch. I can’t get the thought out of my head of sitting with my two males on a porch on some nameless planet in the future.
It would be just like this. I’d be in one of their laps, and yes, there’d be an eager cock poking the small of my back, just like it is now. But it would be quiet and unspectacular. We’d just bask in the knowledge that we loved each other.
I flash the picture at the two males and like it when they both say, “Ahh,” in a wistful tone, as if it would be their perfect future, too.
Suddenly, the ground rumbles beneath our feet. Holy fuck. What are my eyes seeing?