Penumbra

by Dan Ackerman

  Rhys blinked a few times. He pressed his lips together, then licked them. “I don’t like to miss work.”

  “I did notice that.”

  Rhys kissed him, another slow, careful press of his lips.

  Arden kissed back a little more fiercely than Rhys had given in the hopes the other man might respond.

  It worked for about a minute.

  “I have to go to work,” Rhys breathed into his mouth.

  Arden kissed him once more. “Fine, then go.”

  Rhys gave him another quick kiss.

  Arden watched him go.

  He spent the rest of the day waiting for Rhys to come back. Here and there he tamped out fires the rumor mill had started, but mostly he waited.

  Sometimes he paced.

  He washed, even though he’d washed that morning. He changed into more casual clothes, then into something nicer, and then back into the clothes he’d put on the first time.

  He combed and braided his hair, then stared in the mirror, reconsidering his choice.

  “What the fuck?” he asked his reflection.

  He stared at the thralls who came to tidy up his room and they slunk around beneath his gaze.

  Finally, he went over to the window to watch Terra One. That always distracted him, although not always for the betterment of his mood.

  No one alive on Eden had set foot on the planet. They still had shuttles that could go down, but no one ever did. Just like no one from Terra One ever came up to Eden anymore. Their civilization might have degraded so much that they didn’t know what Eden was or how to contact it.

  He checked the time and checked the Council nominations. So far, seventeen members of the peerage had received nominations.

  He sat and looked down at the planet, then lost some time staring at his reflection, muted, in the clear glass between him and the void.

  Fuck, what a reflection. A pinched face with wide eyes and a thin mouth.

  Well.

  Not that thin. Not unattractively thin, but it must have belonged to his father, whoever he was. Mother’s mouth had been full and handsome.

  He had been handsomer years ago, before he’d gotten so thin. Not that his mouth had changed.

  He should have eaten more and relied on formulas less, but it was better to be scrawny than pudgy. Not that he had anything against pudgy people, or fat ones. He liked them a lot, for the most part.

  But he didn’t want to be one of them because all he could think of was Mother frowning when he outgrew clothing in width faster than he did in length.

  In retrospect, he probably would have thinned out when he’d hit his growth spurt naturally since that was when he’d gone from average to skinny.

  Rhys knocked before he let himself in.

  At least he let himself in.

  Arden liked that. He turned, leaned against the window, and gave a small wave. “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “You came back.”

  “I said I would,” Rhys reminded.

  “I thought you might reconsider things.”

  Rhys came over to sit next to him. “A few weeks ago, I might have.”

  “Oh. What changed?”

  “A lot,” Rhys admitted.

  “Did you want to be more specific than that?’

  “Mason Baker had a lot of good things to say about you,” Rhys said.

  Arden didn’t know if it was an explanation or a change in subject.

  “Would you take it back if I said I didn’t want to do this?” Rhys asked.

  “You mean put your debt back?” Arden asked.

  The thought had never crossed his mind. It seemed poor form to ask for a lover to return gifts when things came to an end. He’d never done it before, not even when he’d given Faust Reins his favorite robe and Faust had turned out to be a rotten lover. And a cheat. Arden didn’t mind sharing but he liked to know he was doing it.

  “That feels rude,” Arden settled on saying.

  Rhys sighed.

  “Fuck, if you don’t like me, get out, Rhys.”

  Gently, the other man assured, “I like you.”

  Feeling slightly sick, but mostly small and stupid, Arden drew his legs up to his chest. “I’m trying to do something, Rhys, but I can’t do it without you.”

  “No, probably not.”

  Arden chuckled.

  Rhys put an arm around Arden’s shoulders and tugged him in closer. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel funny about all of this, but I like you.”

  Arden nestled under his arm. “But it’s okay to kiss you.”

  Rhys nodded.

  “Will you come lay down with me? I know I keep saying that but maybe third time’s the charm.”

  Rhys stood and held out a hand to help Arden up.

  Quiet but hand-in-hand, they walked to Arden’s bedroom.

  Rhys took off his shoes without Arden saying anything.

  “What do you want to do?” Arden asked.

  “Whatever happens, I suppose, is alright with me.”

  Arden rubbed his nose. “That’s a lot of options.”

  “I may not have done every kind of thing with every kind of person but…you know, I do like to try new things.”

  “Do you? I hate new things. They terrify me.” Arden shucked off his shirt and tossed it on a chair. He did the same with his pants but missed the chair and had to retrieve them. When he straightened up, he saw Rhys placing his own shirt, folded neatly, on the bedside table.

  He twisted his hair into a loose knot and secured it to keep it out of the way.

  Undressed, they slid under the covers.

  Rhys flinched when Arden touched his side. “Your hands are cold.”

  “Oh! Sorry, they’re always like that. Mother had cold hands too…” He trailed off, realizing that bringing up his mother in bed might not be the sexiest thing to do. “I guess it’s genetic,” he finished, like an idiot.

  Rhys smiled, though, and brought Arden’s hand to his lips.

  Arden inched a little closer and kissed his shoulder. He tried not to say anything else unbecoming. He warmed all over when Rhys wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him into an embrace.

  He wanted to impress Rhys but ended up melting altogether when Rhys kissed him. The last person he’d kissed had thrown up on him and that had been almost a year ago.

  No, two years ago! Where the fuck had the time gone?

  Distantly, he wondered what Kenji was up to.

  Rhys’s hand between his legs brought him back to the moment.

  Oh, this would be fast. Wretchedly, embarrassingly fast.

  He should have done something beforehand so he would last.

  Except he hadn’t even been sure Rhys would show.

  “I, uh,” he whispered.

  “Hmm?”

  “I might go too fast.”

  “Alright.” Rhys took his hand back and kissed Arden’s throat. “I can work with that.”

  A bit of Twelve would take the edge off, slow things down. And Seven had been made for people with exactly this need without any of the other effects.

  What would be better? Cumming too early or stopping things to take a shot?

  Rhys kept his hands away from Arden’s cock for a while, paying attention to other spots on his body that evoked fuzzy, warm feelings, but didn’t tip him towards the edge.

  He slid his hands over Rhys, delighted to have someone to touch, someone that leaned into his touches once his hands warmed up.

  They pressed hard against each other, no room for hands any more, and slid their way to a climax.

  Arden didn’t cum half as fast as he’d expected he would.

  He giggled a lot afterward.

  Rhys frowned. “Are you alright?”

  Curled up in near hysterics, Arden nodded and insisted, “I’m fine!”

  Rhys didn’t ask again, just laid down.

  Once he calmed down, he reached over to call for someone to bring washcloths, because they’d smeare
d all over each other’s bellies, and snacks. He found himself in the worst mood for a snack.

  He stopped himself and studied Rhys, who had his eyes closed. He hadn’t fallen asleep, he had them intentionally closed.

  Maybe he’d found Arden’s fit of laughter unbecoming. Or he knew he wouldn’t like what he saw when he opened them.

  He probably wouldn’t like a thrall coming in to see him like this. Arden barely knew one from the other, but Rhys might have known whoever came in personally.

  Arden kissed his nose.

  Rhys opened his eyes.

  “Do you want a snack?”

  “I’m okay.”

  He pointed. “Bathroom’s through there.” Rhys already knew that, but Arden felt the need to point it out. “If you want to clean up.”

  Rhys nodded.

  When he left the bathroom, Arden took his turn to wash up. He came back out to find Rhys with some of his clothes pulled back on. “Oh.”

  Rhys shifted. “I didn’t know if…”

  “Well. You could stay.”

  Rhys hesitated.

  Arden felt awful standing there naked. “I’d like it if you did. If you want to.”

  “I could.”

  “Please,” he mumbled.

  Rhys raised his eyebrows. “If Your Eminence commands it.”

  “Are you going to pick on me this much all the time!”

  Rhys grinned. “I would have picked on you a lot more if you hadn’t owned me before.”

  Arden scowled and pouted his way back to bed, then curled up in the sheets.

  Rhys sat on the bed, legs crisscross.

  “No, I don’t care if you stay, go do whatever it is that’s more important or interesting or…” Arden huffed.

  “I didn’t know if you were going to kick me out,” Rhys offered softly.

  Arden uncurled.

  “Peers do that, you know.”

  “As a matter of technicality, we are not a peer, we are the Autarch. We should not be compared.”

  “Well, I’ve heard he’s worse.”

  Arden scooted over to place his head on Rhys’s thigh. “I was a beast for a while.”

  “I remember.”

  Arden scowled.

  Rhys played with a loose strand of Arden’s hair. “I remember you throwing that tray across the Public Chamber.”

  “Mm.”

  “And calling Lazlo Frakes an ‘irredeemable fucking cretin’,” Rhys continued. “Or the time you poured a pitcher of water over the laps of everyone at your dinner table.”

  Arden remembered that but didn’t remember Rhys being there for it. It had been right before his inauguration and people had kept telling him he had big shoes to fill, that his mother had such grand expectations for him, things like that. He’d dumped the water, smashed his dinner plate, and stormed out. “I didn’t even know you then.”

  “I was working.”

  “Oh.” A little slither of shame wormed through Arden. “I was an awful beast.”

  Rhys’s fingers moved through his hair, slow, steady strokes. He didn’t argue.

  Arden stretched out.

  Rhys’s touch wandered away from Arden’s hair. His shoulder, his chest, over one nipple.

  Arden flinched. “Huh! Oh, don’t do that.”

  Rhys withdrew his hand entirely. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s, they’re just weirdly sensitive, uh, after I had surgery. I was supposed to get all this rest and not use my arms but,” Arden snorted, “It was handball season and I didn’t want to miss practice too much. I thought the other kids wouldn’t like me as much if I didn’t show up for practice and keep my spot on the team.”

  “What kind of surgery?” Rhys scanned his chest.

  “Oh!” Arden rolled onto his back and tugged down the sheets. He traced over a few short, thin lines, barely there after so many years, on his stomach. “The whole thing, all of it. Uh. Gene therapy, removing things, attaching other things.” He pointed to one scar, most obscured by reddish curls, at the base of his cock.

  With vague concern, Rhys asked, “What happened?”

  “Well, nothing happened, Rhys. I was just…you know, born with a body that needed a few adjustments before I felt cozy in it.”

  Rhys’s brow knit.

  “It happens with plenty of people,” Arden reminded defensively.

  “No, no, I know, I just…”

  “What?”

  “The people I know who need those procedures never get them.”

  “Why not?”

  “Cost too much.”

  Arden pressed his lips together. He’d been young when he’d realized what he needed, and it had taken a few years to convince his parents of what was right for him. Mother had planned her heir carefully and a son hadn’t factored into that.

  In the end, she’d gotten him everything he needed, every available procedure to make his body his own. He’d never thought about cost.

  He’d never thought about a lot of things.

  He played with his dick a little bit, flipping it from side to side, and told Rhys, “Grew this in one of the labs upstairs. Works like I grew it myself. Miracle of modern science, right?”

  “A miracle,” Rhys agreed.

  Arden stretched. “Are you sure you don’t want a snack? I’m dying for one.”

  “Did you eat dinner?”

  “Uh. No.”

  “You should do that.”

  “Mmm. Are you hungry? Come on. Where do you want to eat?”

  Rhys shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “What?”

  “Bringing me out to eat with you.”

  Arden blew a raspberry.

  “I think you’re underestimating how much people are freaking out.”

  Arden blew another raspberry, this time into Rhys’s side. “Fine, they’re freaking out. I’m ordering something, though, so what do you want?”

  “I’m not picky.”

  He grabbed his tablet, ordered a handful of favorites, then laid back to wait. When he heard the thrall enter, he called, “In here!”

  Rhys shot him a look.

  “What?”

  Rhys pressed his lips into a thin line, then slunk down in bed when the thrall entered.

  “Over there.” Arden pointed to a table beside the armchair where he’d tossed his clothes.

  The thrall set it down. “Anything else, Your Eminence?”

  “That’s all.”

  Rhys scooted even lower in the bed until the thrall had left.

  Arden grabbed the tray and brought it over to the bed. He didn’t point out that Rhys had hidden from the thrall. Instead, he pulled the cover off the tray and said, “Here, try this, it’s amazing.” He speared a forkful and held it out to Rhys.

  Rhys took the bite. His eyes fluttered close.

  “Right?” Arden asked.

  Rhys nodded.

  They ate, then nestled back together under the covers. Arden fell asleep almost as soon as Rhys put an arm around him.

  In the morning, Rhys woke him as he tried to untangle them.

  Arden said, “You keep trying to leave.”

  “I have to go to work.”

  “You keep saying that.”

  “It keeps being true.”

  “Take that tray with you?”

  “Of course, Your Eminence.”

  Arden snorted. He grabbed Rhys’s hand and kissed his palm. “See you soon?”

  “There’s a Council meeting tomorrow.”

  “Oh, fuck, there is. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Rhys tried to walk away, but Arden didn’t let go of his hand, not until Rhys came in and kissed him.

  “Bye,” Arden said.

  “Bye.”

  Arden snuggled into the pillow Rhys had used until the absolute last minute. He washed and dressed in a hurry, then headed to his first appointment of the day. Some young peer wanted to talk Arden into renting her a storefront.

  Arden had little in
tention of opening a new store anytime soon. Not until they had engineering, farming, and maintenance sorted out. He told the peer as much, but also said he’d keep her idea in mind when things looked up.

  Arden arrived at the Public Chamber significantly earlier than the rest of the Council. Rhys had come and woken him rather early, which Arden had attempted to protest, but Rhys had convinced him with a kiss.

  Arden put his feet up on the table while they waited and looked at Rhys in his usual place. “I don’t know why you wanted me here so early.”

  “It looks better.”

  “Does it?”

  “You want to impress your new Council, when you have it, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “No one’s impressed when you show up in your bedclothes.”

  “I only did that a few times.” Arden tipped back his chair so he could see Rhys better. “Have you been thinking all these mean things about me for the last ten years?”

  “Since before that.”

  Arden frowned at him.

  His hand folded over his stomach but his eyes on Arden’s face, Rhys gamely shared, “At first I didn’t think I could like you less than I already did, and then I really didn’t like you at all.”

  “And then…?”

  “And then you started to take my advice.”

  “Oh.”

  Rhys softened what he’d said with a smile. “You’re nearly a real person now.”

  “You really are very bold!” Arden scolded.

  Rhys’s smile widened.

  The other members of the Council filed in and interrupted anything either of them might have said.

  The Council members fixed Rhys with hideous stares, eleven pairs of eyes, livid and ugly.

  Arden returned all four legs of his chair to the floor and sat up straighter.

  “He should not be here,” said Don Wiess.

  “He’s here by my invitation,” Arden reminded.

  “No one but Council members are allowed in the Public Chamber,” Madge Yarrow said. “We’ve tolerated his intrusion—”

  “You’ve got two months left to keep tolerating it. You all received my agenda for today’s meeting?”

  Now those pairs of eyes fixed themselves on Arden with icy distaste.

  “You’re going to ruin Eden,” Burton Riley accused.

  “All the shuttles in the docking bay are still functional if you’d like to take your chances somewhere else,” Arden said. “You do go to the evacuation drills, don’t you? You should know how to work one.”