Taji From Beyond the Rings

by R. Cooper

  His little human ear wasn’t anything like a Shavian ear, nowhere near as sensitive. But Trenne gave it a kiss, a human kiss, and this time the sound that left Taji was closer to a sob. Trenne pushed in, that much deeper, driving another cry from Taji as the steady grind against his prostate pulled the orgasm from him.

  It almost hurt, the force of it. A perfect, unsatisfying pleasure that didn’t end until Trenne finally stopped moving, breathing hard. Taji had a death grip on him. Trenne was very still.

  “My honor,” Trenne told him, breaking the silence. The emotion vibrating through his voice was almost painful to hear. Taji thought Trenne might have said that before, while Taji was writhing and delirious. He dragged a kiss over whatever skin was under his mouth.

  “Sorry,” Taji mumbled, sounding drunk and slow. Trenne was still hard, still in him, waiting. “I can do better. No, no, don’t!” He opened his eyes and raised his head when it felt like Trenne was going to pull out and set him down. Even that tiny motion had him gasping again with overstimulation.

  Trenne was bloodied and dirty from the hunt. Sex had made Taji forget that. Trenne’s eyes were bright, his gaze hot. “Shehzha,” he said, in a voice a hundred times hotter than that stare. “It was my honor.”

  “To make me come?” Taji demanded in a much quieter voice than he would have at any other time. “You didn’t.”

  That startled some of the heat from Trenne’s gaze. Both of his ears went all the way flat, then slowly rose. Taji wasn’t a total failure of a shehzha, then.

  But Trenne followed through on what he’d started, despite Taji’s protests. Once Taji was on his feet again, shivering and too aware of his body, Trenne stepped close. He wrapped a hand around the one Taji had on the knife hilt and Taji immediately let go, though it made him wobble.

  Trenne knelt down to wipe the knife on the discarded clothes and set it on the ground, and as he came back up, he pulled his hair free of its ties.

  His cock had not gone even a little bit soft. Taji couldn’t look away from the vision he made. But he frowned in confusion when Trenne tugged at the shirt Taji was wearing.

  “What are you doing?” Taji demanded without any ire or urgency. He allowed Trenne to pull the shirt—Trenne’s shirt—from him and throw that aside. He remembered his scars too late and automatically tried to spread a hand over them. “Trenne,” he said nervously when Trenne didn’t speak.

  Trenne finally looked back at Taji’s face. “What you asked, shehzha,” he said, sounding a fraction closer to his normal self. He reached out to turn on the water and then stood beneath the stream as it began to pour down.

  Taji gaped, mouth moving soundlessly at this new, unexpected sight. Blood, dirt, and some of Taji’s come were running off Trenne’s body. Steam filled the small space between them. Trenne’s hair, when wet, was straight and shiny dark and reached well past his shoulders.

  He let Taji stare. “Do I please you?”

  Taji had just had an orgasm milked from him. He shouldn’t be aroused, but his heart began to beat faster. It wasn’t even a shehzha thing; it was a Trenne thing.

  He hoped he nodded, but his thoughts were a mess. His legs were barely supporting him. He tried to look away from Trenne’s cock and noticed the wound on Trenne’s thigh with real attention for the first time. He tripped forward, falling into Trenne, who curled an arm around him. Trenne’s temperature was hot like a sun, somehow as big of a shock to Taji’s zinging nerves as the stream of water now spilling down his back, as Trenne wanting Taji to appreciate him.

  “You’re beautiful,” Taji told him hoarsely without looking up. He skated his fingers around the cut. A small amount of blood mixed with the water, but the cut wasn’t deep. It likely would have healed quickly if Trenne hadn’t been running around all day, hunting beasts, fucking translators. “I’m sorry.”

  “Taji,” Trenne spoke his name with the same overwhelming warmth as ever. “Do you believe I am disappointed? I earned a shehzha, and I pleased him, even when it would have been easy to hurt him—when he seemed to think I would.” Taji jerked his head up. “I am more than Larin Emperor,” Trenne declared with pride. “My shehzha makes me so. For him, I would not. I did not.”

  “You—” Taji cut himself off there. Trenne had been close to losing control. “I could make you come now?”

  “You were lost in your pleasure, but I did not think you missed mine.” The water was sheeting cleanly off Trenne now. His ears went up with alarm or interest before he turned off the water. “I understand. You expected me to ejaculate.”

  Taji closed his eyes. That he had apparently failed to note a significant fact of Shavian physiology shouldn’t be humiliating, but in this moment, it was. “You don’t always when you come?” he guessed weakly. Shavians must have different types of orgasms, or some of them, like Trenne, could, maybe. That…explained a lot, actually.

  “That is for you to enjoy, if you still want to…” a slip in Trenne’s control again “If you will stay my shehzha.”

  Taji’s eyes flew open. “Jha, Trenne. Jha since I met you,” he explained helplessly. A sliver of his earlier confidence returned with how much sharper Trenne’s focus on him got. Trenne probably barely remembered anything about that day except for Taji’s whining, but Taji would never forget it. “You’re my friend and I want you. And someday, when I’m stuck on some lonely rock on some other job for IPTC, I think…I will want the memory of having been yours for a while.”

  It was so much worse than that. But though Shavians did not experience what humans called love, Trenne had been around them enough that he should know what Taji wasn’t saying. Taji swallowed. “And I want to give you this. So, yes. I will stay your shehzha.”

  “Jha,” Trenne echoed in an awed whisper that made Taji hate every single Shavian who had ever sneered the word hurat. “Shehzha.” Trenne’s voice had layers of yearning. “Taji. I will want…I want—” He turned his head and for several moments spoke ‘Asha in a way Taji had never heard from him before, fractured glass in place of measured murmurs. “We must be careful. In this place. I cannot give you all you want here.”

  The fact that he wanted to was implied with very Shavian silence.

  “Oh.” Taji was mindless and hot. “No one’s ever wanted to give me anything,” he said again, very soft, and leaned in to sigh against Trenne’s skin. He peered up a moment later. “I’m going to take it all,” he promised, but this time with his voice low. He wondered if anyone else was ever allowed to see Trenne still and alert and turned on, though it was enough for Taji to get to see it now.

  He licked his lips. “But we don’t need to be careful today, in this moment. Right? The reactions won’t start immediately. So you can come again—make a mess with me, I mean. Ejaculate or just orgasm as long as we get all that glorious fluid exchange. My honor at your service, Trenne,” he added, then finished, deliberately, “please.”

  Trenne exhaled roughly, mind still sharp enough to catch onto Taji’s attempt at seduction. “My shehzha could control an emperor.”

  Taji’s heart was pounding like mad. “Should I stop?”

  Trenne shook his head. It was very human of him.

  “May I touch you?” Taji asked for politeness’ sake, though everyday Trenne would have only said something about honor or point out that they were already touching. This Trenne was rocked by another tremor and pulled Taji tighter to his chest.

  His cock was not insignificant, hot and wet from Trenne’s brief shower. Taji curled one hand around the base and gave it a light stroke. The bumps had some give, but he remembered how they felt inside him and nearly gave another moan. The bumps also appeared to be nerve clusters, judging from Trenne’s shudders.

  Taji stroked him again, pleased. He could only imagine what that had felt like for Trenne, how it felt to be inside Taji’s much smaller, and therefore tight, body. He was vaguely amazed Trenne hadn’t come on the spot, but then, this was Trenne.

  He let Taji tease and explore his prick
with jolts and shivers but no protests or pleas for more, although his breathing was faster. The movements of his ears were fascinating. Taji temporarily gave up on trying to stroke the entire length and focused his attention on the places that made Trenne’s muscles flex and tighten, the visible hints of how much Trenne was holding back. If he moved his hand down, past the base of Trenne’s cock, there was a small slit he could press into with the tips of his fingers. No more than that; it wasn’t developed enough for more penetration, but inside, Trenne was hot and slippery. Trenne’s inhale caught in his throat. Taji slowly pulled his fingers out so he could taste them. Then he went back to stroking Trenne’s cock.

  “Do Shavians use their mouths on each other?” Taji asked, breathing faster, too. He took Trenne’s flat ears and burning stare as a yes. “Are your orgasms from that sort of stimulation more or less pleasurable than the other kind? The same? How often can you do that? Fuck, I sound like a biologist. Feel free to shut me up.”

  “I like your words.” Trenne wrapped a hand over the one Taji had his cock but didn’t hold it still. His lips stayed parted for a few moments before he spoke again. “You lost them when I was inside you.”

  “B’lyad,” Taji whispered. “Yeah. Yes, I did. Couldn’t think of anything. Only you.” Trenne’s wide-open face was killing him. Taji didn’t think he could lie to that. “I’d give you that again. Easily. Eagerly. Ecstatically.”

  He was ridiculous.

  Trenne only regarded him gravely, and if that was hope in his eyes, Taji couldn’t bear it. “I would enjoy carrying you again.”

  “To the bed?” Taji asked, already nodding. He couldn’t do it against a wall again, not for a while. “I’ll need a bed, this time.” He didn’t want Trenne’s attention on his scars or his leg, so he raised his arms in invitation to be picked up.

  Trenne inhaled and exhaled as though readying for an ordeal, but he gently lifted Taji up into his arms and just as gently set him down on the side of the bed a few moments later. Taji let himself fall backward, shivering when droplets of water from Trenne’s hair hit his chest. He realized a beat too late that he had displayed himself, scars and all, and that Trenne was giving Taji’s body the same careful study Taji had given his.

  Taji slapped a hand reflexively over his hip, although Trenne’s attention had been on Taji’s—perfectly proportional and average for a human—cock. At the panicky gesture, Trenne’s eyes came up to his, then dipped back down to Taji’s hip.

  Taji’s hand could never cover the extent of the scarring, the marks of the makeshift emergency surgery to remove his leg, the trails of dark lightning carrying up beyond that. Trenne’s hand did, in the second before he pulled Taji’s away.

  “I…Urnau is a farming planet, chosen to be developed. There wasn’t much to do there but work. The native wildlife was still present, a known danger,” Taji didn’t let himself slow down, “but sometimes in need of help. One bit me. The venom does that—leaves those marks.”

  “It took your leg?” Trenne wondered, although he’d probably seen Taji’s files and knew the basic facts the way he knew all the things Taji had been vaccinated against and treated for. “You will tell me if this hurts.”

  The muscles around Taji’s prosthesis always hurt these days and would again soon, once the sex endorphins wore off. Taji darted his gaze away, only to bring it back in shock when Trenne leaned over him, commanding and military even when nude and dripping wet.

  Trenne gave the winding marks and scars another long study. “You will tell me,” he ordered again, softly. “No more pretending, Taji shehzha.”

  Taji gave in with a tiny shudder. “I’ll tell you.”

  He wanted to frown, but then Trenne curled his hand loosely around Taji’s cock. His textured palm was delicious agony on the sensitive skin. Taji arched up. “Yes,” he hissed, dragging his heel against Trenne’s back while Trenne expertly toyed with his foreskin. Trenne was trying to get him hard again. Trenne knew that he could. “These humans you fucked before—” Taji panted in distraction.

  “Did not have small, compact bodies, or your mind, shehzha, or shining skin, or a cock that curves up into my hand and fits there.” Trenne watched himself tease Taji’s dick and didn’t appear to notice Taji jumping at the word “small.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” It was all Taji could manage.

  “Like?” Trenne shot a faint look of confusion Taji’s way. Then it was lost, hidden by the fall of his wet hair as he ducked his head.

  Taji hitched his hips to meet the press of Trenne’s lips on his skin, and the rough-good pressure of his palms, and the silken sweep of his hair. Trenne kissed Taji’s ribs and the jagged lines of his scars, and then finally put his hands to Taji’s hips before kissing his cock, too.

  Taji’s groan was probably audible through the door. “Fuck. Trenne. Fuck, that’s—” Pulling Trenne’s hair felt like sacrilege. Taji held fistfuls of the bedding instead, which lasted until Trenne slid his hands beneath Taji’s body and tugged his hips up to better get Taji’s cock in his mouth.

  Trenne’s hair was thick, smooth with water. It clung to Taji’s wrists when he buried his hands in it. Trenne barely paused, mouth hot around Taji’s soft cock, tongue moving lightly over too-sensitive places. Gentle, like Taji wasn’t gasping his name already.

  Taji was probably a screamer by Shavian standards, which was another embarrassment in a lifetime of them. But this one was worth it. For all Trenne’s shyness with mouth kisses, he was more than happy to use his lips and tongue to leave Taji shaking.

  So, these humans you knew before, Taji wanted to say, but his throat was dry and those words wouldn’t come. “You could just use me,” he reminded Trenne, voice a rasp. “I know—ah—I know…” He couldn’t remember what he knew. Wait—“Shehzha. I know you’ll say ‘shehzha.’ But you can. This time. If you need to. I won’t mind. Fuck, I won’t mind. It’s a good thought. All thoughts about you are good thoughts.”

  He splayed his fingers, fingertips brushing the bottom of one of Trenne’s ears. A small shockwave carried through Trenne’s body.

  Trenne pulled off Taji’s cock and looked up.

  Taji dizzily stared back. “Oh.” He barely hesitated. “I can do that, too.” He closed his index finger and his thumb along the tip of Trenne’s left ear and tugged lightly.

  Trenne climbed up over him, the clumsiest Taji had ever seen him, to look intently into Taji’s eyes.

  “You’re unreal,” Taji informed him quietly. “And you wear a cuff on your ear every day, which you must either really hate or really love.” He tugged again, then stroked the edge of Trenne’s ear all the way down to his skull. Trenne’s every desperate breath was warm. Taji dragged his hand up to the tip, slow and careful, and had to drop his other hand to Trenne’s shoulder to soothe the tense, shivering muscle.

  “Taji,” Trenne objected, or begged—begged Taji.

  Taji shifted beneath him to dig his heels against the edge of the bed and press himself to Trenne’s cock. He trailed his fingertips over the velvet skin of Trenne’s ear, dazed when a ripple carried through Trenne’s entire body.

  Trenne put a hand on Taji’s ribs but still didn’t stop him. “Your hunger will take all of me,” he ground out. His rapid breaths over Taji’s shoulder didn’t feel angry. He turned his face to the side, too exposed for even his shehzha, perhaps, so Taji stretched up to kiss the ear in front of him.

  Trenne went rigid, blissfully obvious once again, before he turned back to stare into Taji’s face. Taji stroked his cheek this time. He was too happy to be careful. Anyway, Trenne already knew his heart. “I can keep doing that until you come,” Taji offered.

  “That is not what you wanted,” Trenne answered, tone very final. Taji couldn’t feel any sting from it when Trenne then angled his face away again, presenting his ear for more of Taji’s caresses.

  Nothing in the universe could ever have prepared Taji for Trenne. He might not ever recover from him, once this was all over. If he s
urvived.

  “Please,” Taji said quietly, not teasing.

  Trenne’s gaze came back to his. “This time gentle,” Trenne told him in ‘Asha, as though he was ever not gentle with Taji. Taji whined and surprise flickered across Trenne’s expression before he seemed to realize the source of Taji’s distress, which was, as always, him. Or, at least, he seemed to understand that Taji was not in pain or genuinely complaining.

  He pushed himself up onto his hands, then briefly dropped down to place a kiss on Taji’s stomach.

  “A kiss to make it better isn’t always literal,” Taji snarked breathlessly to keep from falling apart.

  Trenne was apparently fine pretending his arms weren’t trembling with everything he was still holding back. “What will make it better?”

  Not being anywhere near anyone who called themselves noble. Not being on this planet. Not being in danger, even though that also meant no reason for Trenne to stay with him. Getting far enough away from all of this that Taji could finally let himself accept how impossible it had always been, and remember all of this fondly and not in agony.