Spliced: Part 4 - Chapter 1 (4.1)

[flighty_dreams]

TITLE: Spliced 4.1
AUTHOR:flighty_dreams
WARNINGS: NC-17. slavefic. scifi setting. M/m.
WORD COUNT:  5,392 (this chapter)
SUMMARY:  4.1 - New beginnings.
NOTES:  The index to this story available here.
FEEDBACK: Always welcome. :)
  

 *  PART FOUR  *
Allied Planets Year 309

Chapter One

 

 

Yet another long workday.

“I’ll give you our decision once I’ve discussed the details with my grandfather,” the young Monlean client told Matt, ending the call.

Sighing at the delay, Matt added an entry to his PC’s calendar before leaning back in his chair, his feet extending under his desk. Fidgeting, he stared blankly at the paraphernalia in front of him before raising his eyes to skim over the landscape paintings on his office walls.

The younger man’s words made him think of his own grandfather. Cyrus Leverdine called Matt twice each Kartan year, on his birthday and on Kartan Solstice. It was the only contact he had with his relatives on Karta, and even that was more than he liked. Speaking to his grandfather would have been pleasant if they had just been simple calls; he certainly wanted to know how Cyrus, Matt’s sister Delia and his nephew were doing. Unfortunately Kartan culture didn’t allow such things to be so straightforward; each occasion was also an opportunity for his grandfather to nag him to come ‘home,’ and it took any enjoyment out of the calls. Despite Matt’s many insistences over the years that Karta was no longer home and that he had no wish to move back, his grandfather refused to listen.

Like most Kartans, Cyrus Leverdine stubbornly ignored whatever he didn’t want to hear. Matt knew he sometimes fit that generalization himself, or perhaps the tendency simply ran more strongly within his own family. It was certainly included among his bastard father’s many flaws.

Either way, his grandfather’s refusal to surrender was as scary in its own way as the Stellvian warriors of old. Fortunately, Matt was just as stubborn.

The buzz of the comm drew Matt out of his darkening thoughts. His assistant’s light, competent voice sounded out of the speaker at his desk a moment later. “Mr. Muldane, when you have a minute, could you come out here please?”

“Sure,” Matt replied. Often enough there was an invoice or two that needed his signature. He closed up the files he’d been using while speaking to his last client before rising from his chair.

The door to his office was solid and soundproof. Although on Monlea most businessmen preferred glass walls for their office so they could see what was going on outside, Matt preferred thick, opaque walls. Despite them making it harder for him to keep an eye on his employees’ offices nearby, he was more comfortable with solid walls.

It came from his early exposure to Kartan business practices; commercial espionage was far too common among Kartan companies. Better to ensure that no one could overhear your meetings, or even evaluate how they had gone by sight. His one concession had been keeping the two large windows; at least he was several floors up, with only shorter buildings nearby. It was not easy to see into his office via the windows, and he liked the view too much to give it up.

Opening the door, he looked to his assistant’s desk just outside his office. The waiting room was empty this late in the day, but there was a man sitting at the petite blonde’s desk. Not in front of it as was customary; this man had his back to Matt, but he’d brought his chair around close to his assistant’s seat.

The woman was giggling. His competent, usually serious assistant was giggling at something the visitor had said to her. Surprised, he looked at the man again. He had a mop of longish, curly dark blond hair, and his build was lean, rather like that of…

Wait a minute. Taking a step into the room, Matt found his eyes darting to the man’s hand, which was resting on the desk. Those fingers reminded him suspiciously of Min’s, but the hair contradicted any resemblance. The stranger was wearing casual denim pants and a gray sweater, and a familiar leather jacket hung off the back of his chair while a worn duffle bag sat near his feet.

They both turned at the same time, hearing the creak of the door closing behind Matt. He barely noticed his assistant’s smile as he moved further into the room, focusing on the stranger’s face instead.

The features weren’t right. The nose was too protruding, and the cheekbones were different. And yet, the shoulders were the right shape, as were the lips—those lips he knew well. Finally the eyes, they were the wrong color—wrong for both colors he’d been prepared for, being hazel instead—but the twinkle of amusement in them made him pause.

After Festun he’d sworn never to let the Andorian trick him again with his physical appearance. He’d look very closely, beyond what the clone wanted him to see.

Rising, the visitor gave him a brilliant smile, a smirk playing at his lips. That confirmed it beyond doubt, despite the odd differences; it was the same smirk Matt had wanted to wipe off the Andorian’s face many times since Festun.

“Matt, it’s been a long time,” the clone said warmly, approaching him smoothly and laying a friendly arm across his shoulders. “Thanks,” Min directed at Matt’s assistant.

“He told me he wanted to surprise you,” she explained cheerfully, having no idea what was really going on.

Still processing Min’s sudden appearance here instead of at the house, he let the clone turn him away from his assistant. Wanting answers—but in private—Matt didn’t protest as the Andorian guided him back into his office. “It definitely is a surprise,” he murmured for the woman’s benefit as they stepped inside.

Once the soundproof door closed behind them, Matt turned on the clone. His hand reaching up to pull Min’s arm off of him, he grabbed the Andorian by the shoulders and pushed him against the wall.

The clone didn’t resist him. Instead his mouth curved, amusement dancing in his eyes. Annoyed that this other version of Min – who for some reason hadn’t gone away yet –  always seemed to consider him a joke, Matt promised himself that he’d finally remove that smirk.

Realizing that this was the first time since Min’s disappearance that he wasn’t either tied up or physically far away from the clone, Matt pressed his whole body against Min’s, effectively pinning him against the wall. The Andorian twitched against him, and the clone brought his face up to his, crushing Matt’s lips with his own. The sinful mouth parted, giving him access, and a low growl slipped out of Matt as their tongues met and thrust against each other with long repressed hunger.

One Earth month was better than five, but still far too long apart. His hands slipped from their hold on Min’s shoulders, eager to roam over the clone’s body. Meanwhile Min was doing the same, his fingers untucking Matt’s blue dress shirt, seeking the skin underneath. Inappropriate attitude or not, the clone’s questing hands made Matt’s senses spiral.

Caught up in the moment, Matt was startled when the clone’s arms circled his waist and then turned him abruptly, switching their positions. Now he was the one pinned to the wall, the clone’s hands rising to press his arms against it. Their mouths had separated, and Min leaned back a bit to look at him. Matt pulled at the clone’s wrists, but the Andorian’s strong grip kept him in place. That amusement was back in the clone’s eyes again, and Matt glared at him. A demand to be released sat on the tip of his tongue, but he kept it in with effort, knowing that the obnoxious clone would happily refuse.

The Andorian’s glee ratcheting up his irritation, Matt instead snarled, “What the fuck are you doing here? And what’s with the disguise?” he asked, his eyes flickering over what must be a prosthetic nose and cheeks. He’d wondered from the moment he recognized Min, but taking the edge off his lust had been the higher priority. Now the blond hair got more of his attention, his eyes narrowing as he noticed that the texture of the hair was different from Min’s natural hair. Was that a wig? How bizarre.

Min rolled his eyes at him while Matt tugged futilely at the hands holding him once again. “Obviously it’s so that none of your employees recognize me,” Min told Matt in the patient tone usually reserved for senile elders, all while blithely ignoring Matt’s attempts to slip away.

Infuriated by the clone’s attitude – particularly his refusal to release him – Matt struggled to focus on more important things. “You still haven’t answered my first question. Why didn’t you just go to the house? No disguise needed there.”

Not answering, Min leaned his face in close to his again, his lips lightly brushing Matt’s before moving along his cheek to his ear. “You really want to talk?” Min asked, his voice a puzzled murmur and his hot breath sparking an accompanying heat in Matt’s groin. Tone becoming even huskier, Min added, “Wouldn’t you rather… do wicked things?”

Matt’s body shuddered as a wave of lust crested over him, and his throat went dry. Desire clouded his reason, but he forced it aside with Herculean effort. Min was manipulating him, and Matt couldn’t let him get away with it. He couldn’t start their future together at such a disadvantage; he would not let the clone walk all over him.

Twisting his head to the side, away from Min, he said firmly, “I want answers. Like what the ashen fuck is going on.”

Min shifted back from him a bit, studying him with interest. Making no further attempts to escape, Matt stared back at him with narrowed eyes. For a moment he swore he sensed… approval in the Andorian’s expression, and perhaps even respect.

“All right,” Min said, stepping back and releasing him, appearing unbothered by Matt’s rejection.

Matt moved away from the wall, not eager to be trapped against it again. As he shifted edgily, fighting to conquer his lingering lust, he watched Min, who had begun roaming about the room with the restless air of a panther, picking up items from his desk or his shelves and looking at them. Bristling at the clone’s careless treatment of his personal property, Matt glared at him again, pushing aside any pleasure he derived from observing the clone’s movements. He let his breathing steady before remarking, “I thought you were supposed to be different when you came back.”

Pausing, Min glanced at him briefly before his gaze returned to the business text in his hands. “Yeah, about that,” he said nonchalantly, flipping casually through the book with nimble fingers that Matt wanted somewhere else entirely, “change of plans.”

“Change of plans?” Matt repeated incredulously, fury spiraling within him and banking his lust. The Andorian had made all those arrangements, just to change them at the last minute? Matt decided that Min must want his head to explode from sheer frustration.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Min looked up at him again, the expression on his altered face sheepish this time. “I didn’t plan this, if that’s what you think.” When Matt continued to stare at him stonily, he added, “I didn’t realize the truth until a few days ago.”

Brows arching, Matt asked, “What truth is that?”

“Min was just a pretense. If you know about me, this me,” he clarified, pointing at himself, “then there really is no Min.”

Glowering at him, Matt retorted, “Are you kidding me? Next you’ll say you aren’t Andorian at all.” Was the clone really lying so blatantly to himself?

The Andorian put the book back on the shelf and turned towards him, sighing. “I’m not explaining it well. I’m not denying the Andorian bits, but… it’s complicated. Min was just a façade, but this isn’t entirely me either. I need to accept the Min parts.” Expression becoming earnest he said, “I’m trying to accept them. It’ll take time.”

Thinking over the clone’s behavior since his arrival, Matt remarked dryly, “Yes, you’re working real hard on that.”

A roll of those faux hazel eyes and then a glower. Ever unpredictable though, the clone changed the subject. “To answer your earlier question, I came here first so we could talk.”

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Matt pointed out, “We could have talked at home.”

“Home,” Min murmured, as if trying out the word. “You mean your house. I prefer more neutral ground.”

“My office is neutral ground?” Matt asked doubtfully.

Min’s lips curved upwards into a satisfied smile that Matt found both distracting and irritating. “I never said we’d actually talk here. It was just a convenient place to meet you.”

Which implied that Min wanted to go somewhere else entirely next. Determination firming his voice, Matt nixed that idea. “We are not going anywhere but the house.”

Cocking his head, that hideous fake blond hair swinging sideways, Min drawled with bemusement, “Are we?”

“Yes,” Matt affirmed, refusing to debate it. “You promised to serve me in the contract. That means obeying me.” Min clearly needed his attitude adjusted; he had promised to honor the contract, and Matt would make damn sure he did. For now though, Matt watched warily as the clone moved up to him, but he didn’t step away.

“Come on, Muldane,” Min replied, his gaze hopeful and his hands gently rubbing Matt’s sleeved arms, trying to coax him into changing his mind. “I just want to talk over dinner. What’s wrong with that?”

About a million things, all of them part of Min’s Andorian DNA. Matt settled for saying, “Everything,” and ignored the tingles Min’s devious touch was drawing out of him.

The Andorian actually flinched, not liking that response. But he recovered quickly; the clone was nothing if not persistent. “Matt,” he said with soft exasperation, “it’ll be my treat. Consider it part of my apology for what happened on Festun.”

Willing to do quite a lot just to find out more about the clone’s other life, Matt considered it for a long moment. Min paying meant possibly discovering something about him by the form of payment he used. But while the Andorian definitely owed him a lot for Festun – and for running away, for that matter – the means of reparation would be Matt’s choice, not Min’s.

Stepping away from the clone’s bewitching hands, Matt told him, “No. We’re going home.”

To his delight, he noted that the Andorian was getting frustrated with him. Min scowled, examining him closely, no doubt searching for a new tactic.

Not wanting to give him the chance to come up with one, Matt walked behind his desk and began shutting down his computer and gathering up his belongings. Once finished, he grabbed his briefcase and stepped beside Min, one hand rising to touch the clone’s back and prod him towards the door. Studying the blond hair close up now, he decided it was definitely a wig.

But he wasn’t given a chance to think any further on it. Min swung around, turning to face him, his hands settling on Matt’s arms.

“Matt,” the clone tried again, giving him a charming smile that didn’t fool Matt for a second, “what if I sweeten the deal?”

Frowning suspiciously, the Kartan asked, “Why are you so desperate to go out to dinner?”

Ignoring the inquiry, Min said instead, “If you have dinner with me, I will answer one question you ask with complete honesty.”

Matt blinked, not only surprised by the offer, but also a little tempted by the promise of information. However, despite his eagerness to know more about Min, the catch was clear. “There’d be no way to be sure you were actually honest,” he pointed out, dismissing the proposal.

Min’s refusal to respond to his previous question moments earlier was just one of many examples of the clone’s evasiveness.

“I’ll swear on whatever you like. I promise I will be honest.”

“The lives of all your siblings?” Matt suggested, brows rising in inquiry. From what he did know of the clone, Min was quite capable of massive deception. No matter what promises he made, he didn’t trust that any answer the clone gave was actually the truth. At least not when it came to his identity; he was fairly confident the clone had been honest about what he’d revealed of his background.

But this had become a negotiation, which was familiar ground for Matt. If he could make the offer better, even the risk that Min was lying wouldn’t cost him anything. He had nothing to lose, but could possibly gain valuable information.

“Sure,” Min agreed in an easy tone that did nothing to increase Matt’s confidence in his honesty.

But as he’d noted, he wasn’t risking anything here. At worst his questions wouldn’t be answered, or would be answered dishonestly. When Min had been pushing him into dinner without incentives, he hadn’t wanted to give ground to the slave; it would set a bad precedent, especially so early in their new relationship. But a negotiation—while still inappropriate for Min to engage in—was at least equal footing.

“Ten questions, not one,” Matt counter-offered, and Min’s glower in response made him grin.

“Ten is far too many, Muldane,” Min said with a snort. “Two.”

“Two? Don’t insult me, Min. Nine.”

The clone’s frown deepened at the use of his name, and Matt knew what one of his questions would be.

Their bargaining went back and forth until Min offered five questions. Wanting to win this decisively – and knowing that for whatever mysterious reason, Min really wanted this dinner – Matt stayed at seven.

“Matt,” Min said, rolling his eyes, “five is plenty.”

Smirking, Matt argued, “And seven is just two more. If you can’t handle that, we go home.”

The clone sighed and then began pacing slowly back and forth across the room. After a few passes, he finally halted a few steps away from Matt. “Fine, seven.”

Matt smiled, pleased that he’d won the negotiation. It had been a long day at work, and the clone had already given him a headache – within ten minutes of his arrival. If not for Festun and the plasma blast, it would’ve been a record.

“Is that a deal then? Dinner for seven questions?” Min asked, stating the pact verbally.

“Yes,” Matt agreed, and they both bowed their heads, as was customary on Monlea after making a deal. Min had no doubt seen him do it many times during those days Matt had brought him along to work.

There was a pause then as they regarded each other with the wariness of alley cats.

Looking at Matt very deliberately, Min reached up, his hands twining in the blond hair. His fingers moved through the hair nimbly, loosening what Matt had presumed correctly was a wig.

The blond hair slid away, one hand catching the wig and lowering it. Beyond that Matt didn’t see where it went, rage boiling up within him as he got a good look at Min’s real hair for the first time that day.

“What the ashen fuck did you do to your hair?” Matt snarled, absolutely livid, unable to stop staring at the closely cropped brown hair. He strode toward the clone menacingly, wanting to shake him.

At least the Andorian was smart enough to be afraid. Expression anxious, he stepped back, dropping the wig on the floor and holding his hands out placatingly. “Matt, no need to spiral out on me,” he said, his voice persuasive and obviously trying to calm him. “It’s just hair, and it does grow back.”

No amount of excuses would soothe his fury. Continuing to advance on the clone as Min retreated from him, he asked again slowly, through gritted teeth, “What the fuck did you do to your hair?”

Amusement flared briefly in the clone’s eyes, even at this vastly inappropriate moment. “I cut it.”

“Minril,” he growled, unable to believe the Andorian’s impudence – for both cutting the hair at all and for mocking him about it.

Just then, the clone’s back hit the wall, and realizing his vulnerable position, Min slid to the side, away from Matt’s approaching reach. He stepped backwards along the wall as Matt followed, still incensed.

Min’s hasty backward movements made a large painting on the wall shake precariously, and the clone stopped to steady it with his right hand. While he was distracted, Matt grabbed him by his left arm, pulling him a step away from the wall before seizing his other arm in a firm grip as well. He pulled the clone’s arms together behind him, curling his arms around them and immobilizing them as the painting’s wobbling gradually slowed.

Min’s back was to him, so the Kartan couldn’t see his face, but he did hear the nervous quiver in the clone’s voice. “Matt…”

Taking advantage of the clone’s apprehension, Matt shifted him to the right until they were clear of the painting before shoving him roughly against the wall again, this time face first. Min turned his head to protect his face, taking most of the impact along the length of his body.

Leaning in and growling into Min’s ear, he corrected him, “Master, not Matt. Get it right.”

The Andorian tensed beneath him, his whole body going still. Then his weight shifted, and it was the only warning Matt received.

From his upper body to his knees, Min pushed off the wall, using his full body weight—which wasn’t much shy of Matt’s—against him. The sudden movement jostled Matt backwards, stumbling, but he kept his balance and desperately clung to Min’s arms, not wanting to lose that advantage. The Andorian’s arms flexed, fighting for release, but Matt held onto them, crushing them tightly against his chest.

Looking over his shoulder, the slightly shorter clone fixed Matt with a pained grimace and a glare in profile. “Let me go,” he snarled angrily.

“No,” Matt denied. “Say it.” He wanted the clone to yield, as much as he wanted to fuck the ass so close to his eager cock at this moment. His rage was mixing with his lust, bringing him near the limits of his control.

Pain exploded in his leg suddenly, and he stumbled back, releasing Min and reaching for his shin. “Bloody ashen fucking hell,” he cursed, leaning down to clutch his wounded limb. Looking back up to glare at the retreating Min, he realized belatedly that the clone had kicked him in the shin with his heel. He scowled down at the hiking boots Min was wearing for a moment before lifting his gaze back up.

Min was glowering back at him, his expression hostile. “The next time you try to bully me, remember this,” the Andorian told him, rubbing at the arms Matt had probably bruised. “I can kick your ass, Muldane.”

Despite his anger, Matt choked out a laugh. “You kicked me in the shin. That’s not exactly an ass-kicking, Min.”

“No, but it was effective, wasn’t it?” Eyes narrowing, Min threatened, “I could have done much worse.”

Scowling as he rubbed his leg soothingly, Matt remembered how easily Min had overpowered him back on Festun. He supposed it was the truth, as much as he despised admitting it. Matt had never learned any martial arts, but Min clearly knew how to handle himself.

“Then why didn’t you?” he asked, curiosity overcoming his anger. The pain in his shin was diminishing, but he knew he’d have a large bruise to show for it tomorrow.

Sighing, Min ran a hand through that abominably short hair. “Because I didn’t come here to fight—physically at least.” The asshole grinned incorrigibly. “Verbal fights are always welcome though. They’re excellent foreplay.”

About to argue with Min over how unacceptable his behavior was, Matt somehow found himself privately agreeing with the last remark. His raging hormones wouldn’t let him deny it. Damn Min and his intriguing obnoxiousness.

He straightened, looking at the clone with a mix of irritation and interest. He couldn’t help feeling both while staring at that short hair. Frowning, he struggled for calm with the last bit of patience he had left and asked flatly, “Why did you cut your hair? It was long when we last spoke.” And that had been recently.

The clone studied him thoughtfully for several long moments before finally replying, “Because I wanted to make a statement. I wanted to show you that things weren’t going to be the same this time.” Min paced restlessly across Matt’s office again as he continued, “I’m not here because you bought me or dragged me back. I’m here by choice.”

Min came up to him, his hands reaching for the Kartan’s and his earnest eyes meeting his. “Matt, I’m here because I want to be here.”

The clone squeezed Matt’s hands gently, and there was such honesty in his expression and his words for once that Matt found himself speechless.

“I wanted to make that clear to you, as much as I also wanted to show you that I won’t just let you do whatever you want to me.” A frown twisted Min’s lips. “I will not let you abuse me; I’m not a toy for you to play with and dismiss. But I do want to make things work,” Min hesitated for a long moment, “and I know that may include… compromising. But my submission is not a given, Matt. You won’t get it without my permission, and bullying or forcing me into it will never work.

“What I want is a relationship, Matt. I know that it’s not what you expected, and it’s not anything you’ve had to deal with for a long time, but I want things to be better this time. I want us to be better.”

Min’s thumbs rubbed Matt’s palms for a moment before letting go and stepping away from him. Sighing, he concluded with, “I want you to think about all that, and what it means, okay? Please?”

Narrowing his eyes, Matt studied the clone, considering his words. Coming from any other Andorian those remarks would’ve been unbelievable, but apparently he was becoming more accustomed to Min’s outrageousness. And if he was honest with himself, Min’s words had affected him. He wanted things between them to be better this time too. But judging by Min’s comments, the clone had a much different idea of what was acceptable than Matt did. Contrary to what Min might believe though, Matt preferred him willing. However, they’d have time to figure out all these issues later.

Finally, he promised aloud, “I’ll think about it,” and the Andorian smiled with relief.

Min did have some valid points – and he would have to take some time to really think about them – but although the clone’s heartfelt comments had swept away most of his anger for the moment, they hadn’t completely taken away his irritation. “If you felt the need to make a statement, couldn’t you have chosen something else?” he grumbled, gesturing at Min’s hair.

The cheeky bastard laughed, and then grinned, and to Matt’s alarm he realized he was starting to find that grin… alluring. It made him want to kiss Min, to tongue fuck that grin away.

“Nah, you liked the hair too much. It was the best choice.”

Exhaling a sigh of exasperation, Matt walked up to the clone. “Let me see what you’ve done to it,” he groused, stepping behind Min, a hand rising up to his head.

Cooperating for once, Min remained where he was, even bowing his head so Matt could reach better. Too bad his mouth couldn’t control itself.

“I assure you, it’s all still there. It’s just shorter,” the clone drawled, amusement clear as glass in his voice.

Min’s hair was still soft, but its ends were spiky now. Frowning as he rubbed his hand over it, Matt noted that it created an interesting contradiction of softness and roughness. However, it still didn’t compare to the long, silky strands he’d loved to stroke. And Min had always loved having his hair touched too.

The memory giving him a sudden impulse, Matt laid his other hand on Min’s shoulder, his thumb idly caressing the clone’s bare neck. Bringing his mouth close, so his lips were brushing Min’s ear, Matt murmured with menace and relish, “All statements aside, I am still going to make you regret cutting it.”

The clone’s harshly indrawn breath told Matt that his touch and his words had had an affect. Min shuddered for a moment before stepping forward, away from him. Matt let him go, his hands sliding off of him, curious as to what the Andorian would do or say next.

Min turned, and his eyes were dark and focused on Matt’s lips, which sparked an answering desire in the Kartan. The clone glanced up, meeting Matt’s eyes for a moment as he said in a husky tone, “We’ll see.” Then his gaze lowered again and he stepped forward.

Hands reaching up to curl into Matt’s short brown hair, Min’s lips met his, his tongue thrusting for access. Caught by surprise, Matt’s mouth opened instinctively, and the Andorian gave him a brief, rough, thorough kiss. He broke away just as abruptly, before Matt could even react.

Lips still tingling, Matt stared at the clone in bewilderment, still too full of the taste of the Andorian to even think properly.

To his annoyance, the clone wasn’t having the same problem. A wry smile curving his lips, he said, “Hair grows back, Matt. I’d say just be patient, but I know you have trouble with that,” he added, sticking his tongue out at him like a little boy in a playground.

Matt blinked, confused by the childish gesture, irritated by the clone’s dismissal of his dismay, and distracted by that tongue.

Before he could answer though, the clone spoke once more, his obnoxious smirk back again. “By the way, that was question #1.”

“What?” Matt growled, outraged as his mind flashed back to Min’s deliberate removal of the wig. The sneaky bastard had made him waste a question on purpose. “I never said it was one of-”

“We never said you had to designate it,” the clone cut in, laughter in his voice.

“We never said I didn’t have to either,” Matt pointed out, scowling at him.

“True,” Min acknowledged, the sparkle in his eyes dimming as his tone grew serious. “But I gave a detailed and completely honest answer. I think it deserves to be counted.”

Pondering it a moment, Matt decided he inwardly agreed; it had been an answer worthy of the list. But he wouldn’t give the clone the satisfaction of that knowledge, and he’d rather have an extra question. So instead he said, “You would think that, but I disagree.”

“Of course you do,” Min replied, rolling his eyes.

“We aren’t even at dinner yet, so-”

Min interrupted him again, this time with his mouth. He treated him to another quick, blistering kiss that left Matt unable to think, much less argue.

Flashing him a satisfied smile that Matt somehow couldn’t resent, Min moved away from him, picking up the wig from the floor and reattaching it. “Is it on straight?” he asked Matt.

Scowling at the ugly thing as he recovered, Matt answered, “Yes, but being crooked would be an improvement.”

Chuckling, Min gave him a smile that tempted Matt into forgetting the dinner and the questions and just undressing him right there. With a new caution he’d never needed before, Matt debated the chances of success, realizing it depended on whether Min decided he was being forced into it. The clone had certainly proved he wouldn’t simply go along with whatever Matt wanted; his still aching shin was proof of that, as was Min’s little speech earlier.

Before he could act on the idea, Min turned away, heading towards the door. Glancing over his shoulder, the clone said lightly, “Come on, let’s get that date started.”

Astonished, Matt stood there mouth agape, watching as the door closed behind Min. Once it was clear Min wasn’t returning though, Matt was shocked into motion, hurriedly grabbing his bag and heading for the door.

As he jogged down the hallway, chasing after the baffling clone, he murmured one word disbelievingly under his breath.

“Date?”


Chapter 2