CHAPTER 1
Their apartment is nice. Big enough for two with enough breathing room it doesn’t feel cramped with all three of us in the common space between their bedroom compartments…
after we get through the galley kitchen their outer door opens into, that is.
The space between the counter and wall is claustrophobic. Even for me.
“We don’t cook,” Ferrok explains, “So we didn’t care about that.”
“We could move,” Mooralan says.
“You are not moving, just because I don’t like your kitchen.”
Ferrok leans down, his beak nipping my neck. “We’d move for less.”
Mooralan picks me up and sits on the sofa, holding me in his lap. “There were other considerations when we chose this place.”
“Like what?” I ask as Ferrok takes off my shoes.
Mooralan presses a kiss to my throat—so close to Ferrok’s bite. “Like a bed that could be big enough for three.”
Telling them I don’t want to get naked with them again already would be an absolute lie, but, “We can’t…”
I wince when Mooralan pulls back and then I exhale, knowing how what I’m about to say is going to sound. “We can’t have sex outside of Phantom’s.”
They glance at each other and Ferrok asks what I expect, “Is it because of the money?”
“No, of course not, but it’s not safe.”
Their confusion makes me question how short their memories are.
“I have had to go see the doctor after every time with you, and you are are a choking hazard, as we just found out.” I poke them each in the chest punctuating my next words. “Not. Safe.”
“Oh…” Mooralan’s face clears and he looks at Ferrok before nodding. “We understand.”
“And we have no intention of putting you in harm’s way.” Ferrok uses his thumb to dig into the sole of my foot, and it melts away some of my tension. “What if we keep all our clothes on and focus on you? No fluids, no choking hazards…”
I should say no. I could easily imagine myself getting carried away… “Not tonight.”
“Okay.” Ferrok nods, still working on my foot. “Can we still kiss you?”
“Of course. But all our clothes stay on.”
“Clothes stay on,” he agrees, hand running up my leg. “But hands can go under…” he says as he reaches the edge of my shorts.
His beak sweeps over my knee and he pauses, hand sweeping back down, thumb caressing one of the scars there.
“What happened?” Mooralan asks.
“An injury from a different life.”
“What did you do in your different life that would harm you like this?” Ferrok looks… angry and it makes me want to laugh.
“I hurt myself at a gymnastics competition and had to have surgery.”
“Gymnastics.” He looks at Mooralan, puzzled, and asks something in a language I don’t know, but Mooralan shakes his head, and Ferrok asks me, “What are gymnastics?”
“It’s a sport. I did routines on a long straight beam that required a lot of balance and there was a big springy floor for tumbling and cartwheels, and then bars… it’s a lot to explain.”
Again, in a language I don’t understand, he asks a question, this time to the ceiling, and the wall across from us flares to life.
I am still getting used to the station’s version of TVs. It seems like any wall can be a display if you give the station computers the right command.
The screen cycles through something and then footage from various competitions pops up.
“You can do that?” Mooralan asks as the woman does a front layout full step out to double tuck
“I used to. But not anymore.”
“Because of these?” Ferrok’s thumb smooths across the scar.
“Yeah.”
They don’t ask me to do a flip for them, thank god. Instead, Ferrok laughs and looks past me to Mooralan. “That makes me the only one without scars.”
“Don’t jinx it,” I tell him, poking his shoulder.
“Don’t worry about me. Worry about him.” He jerks his head toward Mooralan.
“I’m due for another loss.” He wiggles the hand at me that only has four fingers.
“Try not to… for me?” I ask as I catch it and suck on one of his intact fingers.
He swallows. “I’ll try.”
The wall switches to a show I don’t understand, so I don’t pay attention to, and they don’t either.
We stay there for hours, lounging on each other. Neither of them push for anything other than deep kisses and soft touches…
By the time Mooralan has to go to bed and I have to leave, I’ve finally figured out how to kiss Ferrok in a way that makes sense with our seemingly mismatched anatomy.
“Let us take you to dinner tomorrow night.” Ferrok says, holding tight to my fingers as we stop in the narrow kitchen in front of their door.
If Phantom didn’t encourage having favorites, I might have said no. But I like them too much to deny myself spending time with them.
“I’d love that.”