Spliced - 4.6

[flighty_dreams]

Thanks for all the birthday well wishes! Here's a little present for all of you. =)

TITLE: Spliced 4.6
AUTHOR: flighty_dreams 
WARNINGS: NC-17. slavefic. scifi setting. M/m.
WORD COUNT:  3,255
SUMMARY:  4.6 - The morning after.
NOTES:  The index to this story available here. Thanks to aurila for the encouragement, pestering, raging, etc. and to tuawahine for beta-ing.

 

Chapter Six

 

 

It was all very hazy at first.

Eyes still closed, Alex gradually became aware of the soft pillow against his cheek and the arm curled around his waist. For an instant the warm body pressed against him confused him, and he thought he was back on the ship. Then he inhaled, Matt’s familiar scent registering, and his eyes flew open.

At least now I know what’s poking me, he thought, startled into wakefulness. Flame fucking all, the man’s insatiable.

They’d had sex four—or was it five?—times, Matt waking him twice during the night in very memorable ways. After that workout, his ass was probably—ah, there it was. The soreness manifested as soon as he thought of it, and he winced. It sure as hell feels like five. No, he vaguely remembered Matt trying for the fifth, but they’d fallen asleep—for good this time—before they got very far. Or at least *I* did, he thought, uneasy for a brief moment.

Alex was lying on his side, the Kartan spooned close behind him. Matt hadn’t moved or spoken yet, and his breathing was steady, so Alex forced himself to stay still, not wanting to awaken the other man just yet. He needed a few minutes to think.

And to recover. I’m still fucking exhausted. Neither of them were teenagers anymore, though you wouldn’t have known it from Matt’s performance last night. The man seemed determined to make up for six months of lost time.

But as he thought back on it, his mood softened, recalling what it had been like between them, especially that first time. The affection, the gentleness, the wordless communication… Matt Muldane had actually made love to him. He could hardly believe it, and yet remembered it so clearly. He smiled, hope for the future filling him.

He’d been worried, uncertain what to expect after they returned to Matt’s house. Wondering whether the Kartan would want to fuck him or punish him first, he’d certainly gotten his answer. And happy at the reprieve, he’d let Matt take the lead, knowing it was what the man expected anyway.

They’d both behaved. Matt had let the past go for a few hours, concentrating on the present and not taking offense at little things. And Alex had adapted, not wanting to ruin things by pushing Matt beyond his sensitive boundaries. The end result had been an incredible experience—and a huge step forward in their relationship.

However, the progress made him feel even guiltier for hiding things from Matt. It seemed impossible to avoid though; he had too many secrets to keep and too many people to protect. What else could he do?

The Kartan stirred then, and Alex waited, curious to see what he would do. He knew the instant Matt woke enough to remember last night; his muscles tensed for a moment before the arm around him tightened, drawing them closer together. Matt tossed his leg over Alex’s too, as if for good measure.

Possessive as always, the clone mused.

“You awake?” Matt whispered.

Alex grunted an affirmative. “Mostly.”

“Last night…” Matt trailed off.

“Was amazing,” Alex said, finishing the sentence for him. The Andorian knew why he faltered. How did you describe the indescribable?

“Yes, it was.” Matt laughed, but it was wonder, not amusement, that colored it.

A quiet fell over them again and Alex savored it, pleased that the ease from last night was still there between them.

Then Matt’s free hand moved, idly touching Alex’s rear. “You were tight here last night.” The words were murmured, a subtle question in them.

“Yeah,” Alex told him softly, “it had been six months.”

Matt stilled at that admission. His voice rough, a husky edge to it, he asked, “I was the last one?”

“Yes.”

The Kartan hummed contentedly, the hand curled around Alex rubbing his stomach. Then Matt’s other hand stroked his back, pausing at the Andorian brand. Surprising Alex, the man did something he’d never done before:  he bent his head and kissed it.

“Don’t,” Alex hissed out instinctively, pulling away from the touch.

Only Kate had ever kissed the mark before, and the memory of the first time she’d done it was special to him. The acceptance and kindness on her face, and her gentle reassurances—it was then that his walls had fallen, letting her in. After a lifetime of wariness, he’d realized he could truly trust her, and the release from that burden had exhilarated him.

Barely a week had passed since they’d said goodbye. It was still too recent, and for a moment he missed her with a savageness that choked him. Such generous acceptance was all too rare in this life; he need look no further than Kartan prejudices for proof of that.

Then Matt’s voice was there, soft yet distracting. “Why do you keep it?”

It took him a few seconds to determine what Matt meant, and to realize that the Kartan had misinterpreted his reaction.

His answer was still honest though. “As a reminder that you can’t erase the past.”

Matt didn’t say anything, much less the mocking response Alex half-expected. Instead the Kartan slid over, holding him close again and offering quiet support.

It made his guilt rise again. He’d been brave enough to trust Kate, shouldn’t he let Matt in at least a little? How could he expect the man to trust him without taking a risk or two himself?

“There’s something I wanted to tell you.”

The words were out before Alex could rethink them. He bit his lip, struggling with his inner conflict.

Showing unusual restraint, Matt waited for a while before prodding, “What’s that?”

“You asked me why I came back.” Alex hesitated, a memory from months ago surfacing.

“Lady’s tits, just tell me what’s wrong, Muldane,” Hollis said, giving his friend an exasperated look. “Your face shows everything.”

Grimacing, Matt replied, “I know, not very Kartan of me.” The intrigue pervasive through Kartan culture—spies, sabotage and all—was infamous.

“I’m sure your father loved that.” Hollis’ dark eyes twinkled.

“You have no idea.”

Frowning, Alex allowed doubt to seep in. Matt was blunt, straightforward, with no head for deception. Even his business practices were done with honesty, telling his clients upfront how market conditions were and what to expect. And his customers loved him for it, staying loyal to him and adding to his success. He’d made it work for his company, but this was something else altogether. No, it was too risky to tell him.

Letting fear and cowardice—though he preferred to call it caution—sway him, Alex retreated from his impetuous decision, culling back his explanation.

“What I said before was true. But there’s another reason I came back besides what I told you.”

He felt the sharp focus of Matt’s attention. When his pause went on for too long, Matt prompted impatiently, “And?”

Alex could hear the edge of anger in the Kartan’s voice. Trying to soothe it he continued, “I didn’t mention it before because… I can’t tell you the reason.”

“What?!”

Alex felt his face warm. “I promise I’ll tell you later, when the time is right. But I can’t right now.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Matt growled, his tone incredulous. “Why not?”

Turning around to look him in the eye, Alex replied, “I’m sorry, you’re going to have to trust me on this one.”

Matt’s scowl was murderous. When Alex lifted a hand up to his face to comfort him, the Kartan grabbed his wrist, pulling it away. “Tell me.”

When Alex shook his head, denying him, the man gritted out, “So you’re saying you lied at dinner, even though it was a question you’d promised to answer honestly.” Matt’s lip curled in disgust. “It proves you really are a slave. Your word means nothing.”

Glaring back at him, Alex retorted, “It wasn’t a lie. What I said then was true too.”

“But it wasn’t the full story. That’s a lie.”

Frustrated, Alex stared back at him mutinously. “I realize I left part of the explanation out, I try to make up for that—when I could’ve just kept quiet—and now you’re pissed at me for it?”

“All you’ve revealed is that you lied! There is no planet on which what you just said would be called an ‘explanation!’ It’s like a doctor telling a man he’s dying but not explaining what’s killing him!”

His cheeks enflaming again, Alex closed his eyes, pleading silently for patience. He couldn’t deny that Matt was right, but it had seemed better to say something rather than nothing. Fear still made him too wary to reveal more. “Fine, forget I said anything.”

Matt laughed bitterly. “It’s a little late for that. You’ve already admitted there is something.”

With a frustrated growl, Alex rolled onto his other side, facing away from Matt. He stared out at the bathroom doorway across from the bed, berating himself. He’d been a selfish fool to say anything; easing his own guilt at the cost of angering Matt didn’t resolve anything. But he’d wanted to say something to soften the blow Matt would receive later, if things came to a head with Hayeston. Give him at least some warning, and—if he were honest with himself—maybe make Matt more amenable to letting him do whatever had to be done when the time came.

Instead, he’d failed spectacularly. The Kartan wouldn’t take his other reasons for coming back—like his feelings for Matt—seriously now, too focused on wondering what he was hiding. He’d sabotaged himself twice over.

“Tell me the rest.”

“No.”

Matt’s hand reached out, grasping his biceps and pulling him onto his back. Turning his head, Alex’s eyes met an infuriated hazel gaze.

Matt switched tactics then, catching him off guard. “What else did you lie about?” The man’s eyes flashed, and he added, “You just said before that no one else had been inside you. But at dinner you said there’d been one.”

Confused, Alex stared at him. What was he talking about?

Matt sat up, glaring down at him. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

“I…” Alex paused, gathering his addled thoughts. “I don’t remember saying that at dinner.”

Livid, Matt straddled him, bearing down on him as he growled, “Ashen bullshit. You said you had sex with someone. So it can’t have been six months.”

When he pieced together the Kartan’s logic, rage flared like sparks set to tinder. “You’re assuming that I was the one receiving.”

Matt’s outrage faltered, his face growing flustered. “But, you-” He stumbled, trying to process it. “You’re naturally…”

He trailed off and Alex cut in furiously, “How do you even know my preferences? We’ve always done what you wanted.”

A gloating edge to his voice that infuriated Alex, Matt countered, “You were well satisfied last night.”

Alex flushed, unable to deny that even while still resentful of Matt’s prejudiced assumptions. “There’s pleasure in either role,” he finally told Matt, silently adding, especially when the attraction runs so deep. It had certainly worked out fantastically last night.

Matt pressed down on him harder, grinding his shaft against Alex’s groin. The pleasure mixed with pain as his backside cried out in protest, and his pulse raced, arousal flooding his body.

Grimacing, Alex hissed, but the Kartan paid it no attention, his focus entirely elsewhere. Scowling, he said, “So whoever he was… you fucked him.”

It was the wrong pronoun, so Alex deflected instead of answering. “Is that so hard to believe?” He hated how breathless his voice sounded.

The scowl softened to a frown. “I don’t know anymore.”

Sex with a woman hadn’t even occurred to Matt, Alex realized abruptly. Probably because Matt has no interest in women himself, he decided.

Curling his fingers into Alex’s hair, Matt buried his face against the Andorian’s neck. His mouth moved provocatively against the clone’s skin, biting, sucking, licking—anything and everything that drove Alex out of his mind.

I guess the discussion is over. It was his last coherent thought. Alex’s hands clutched Matt’s hips, needing something to hold onto as lust overwhelmed him.

When the Kartan finally pulled away, Alex lay back against the bed, gasping as he recovered from the assault. He didn’t even register Matt’s retrieval of the jar; it took oiled fingers prodding between his legs to startle him out of his daze.

“No, too sore,” he said, flinching away from Matt’s touch. The clench brought on a flash of pain from his rear, and his grip on Matt tightened instinctively, his fingers digging into the Kartan’s ass. “But we can do other things,” he added, desire giving his voice an edge.

The Kartan froze, his eyes turning as cold as space. “No, and don’t ever bother asking again.” He slipped off of him, leaving the bed entirely.

Alex sat up to watch him, ignoring his body’s complaints. Matt’s face was pale and he looked disgusted. Bewildered, Alex stared at him. “What?”

Not answering, Matt glared at him.

Thinking back over their conversation, Alex’s addled brain struggled to find his misstep. Remembering the way his fingers had clutched Matt as he spoke, he flushed, realizing how the man had misunderstood him.

“Matt, that’s not what I meant.” When the Kartan showed no sign of believing him, he cursed. “Flaming hell, I’m not expecting miracles, Muldane.”

Matt crossed his arms and spoke in the pompous tone Alex had dreaded hearing again. “You’ve forgotten your place. It’s time you relearned it.”

Alex glared at the bastard. He’s lucky I don’t have a plasma gun handy. But it wasn’t just anger he felt; after what they’d shared the night before, he was hurt that Matt hadn’t believed him. Like I’d be arrogant enough to think I could talk him into that after one night. I’m not an idiot. However, while Alex could reluctantly understand Muldane not trusting him, Matt talking down to him again was unacceptable.

He’d be damned if he’d sit naked in the asshole’s bed any longer, looking up at him. Grabbing the headboard for support, he got his legs beneath him. Ignoring his body’s various aches and pains, he stood up, meeting Matt’s eyes rebelliously.

“Didn’t last night mean anything?”

The Kartan’s tone was icy, freezing the last of Alex’s naive hopes. “It did, but I won’t be made a fool of.”

“And I won’t be controlled,” Alex snapped.

“That remains to be seen.”

Alex hid his hurt feelings, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Muldane, you need my consent. Without it there’s little you can do.”

What was the man going to do, force him? Surely he knew no good could come of attempting that.

The Kartan smirked at him. “The contract is your consent.”

“That’s not-” not what I meant at all. Of course Muldane didn’t get it. Sighing, he countered, “It’s my consent to be here, not my consent to do whatever you want me to do.”

Okay, so maybe when he’d originally proposed the contract to Matt it had implied he’d do whatever the Kartan wanted. But back then he’d thought he’d be going back as Min, not Alex. The situation had changed drastically.

To his fury, Matt completely ignored his words. “Go wash that dye out of your hair.”

“Are you even listening to what I’m telling you?” Alex asked, jaw clenching.

As chilling as Matt’s next words were, they set the clone ablaze. “No, because I don’t have to. You have no rights here, slave.”

The edges of Alex’s vision darkened as rage overwhelmed him, and he felt himself teetering on a precipice. His hands tightened to fists at his sides, nails biting into skin, and he closed his eyes, shutting Muldane out.

He’s trying to Flaming provoke you, don’t let him, Alex told himself, taking deep breaths. Unfortunately, he couldn’t quite convince himself that the Kartan didn’t believe those words. Him having no legal rights was too fucking convenient for Matt.

Opening his eyes again, he glared at Muldane. Afraid of what he might say or do, he strode past the other man, slamming the bathroom door behind him. Fear mingled with his anger; this near loss of control terrified him.

Alex had just needed to get away from Matt, but as he gave himself some time to calm down, a glance at himself in the mirror recalled his current predicament.  Because of fucking Hayeston, he had to remove the dye anyway. He bristled at following Muldane’s arrogant order, but at least this would buy him some time before he had to face the Kartan again.

As he stood under the water, anger gradually gave way to despair. Leaning against the tiled wall, his head bowed, a soul-weary heaviness pulling at him. Moving back beneath the spray, water streamed down his face in place of the tears he refused to shed.

The night before had been incredible enough to create hope for a future with Matt. Regret at not being more careful to preserve their new, fragile understanding ate at him now. They seemed back where they’d been six months ago, all progress vanished as if it had never occurred.

How had it all gone wrong so quickly?

Distracted, he slipped as he stepped out of the shower, and accidentally jammed his finger against the wall when he caught himself. Cursing, he wrapped a towel around his waist and then rubbed his smarting finger. It was the same motion he made when he thought of Kristeer sometimes, and he found his mind straying there now, despite being preoccupied with his current problems.

A memory from his childhood floated back to him.

He knelt silently, listening to the two men talking over him. His cheek resting against Kristeer’s knee, his master ran his fingers through his hair.

“Performance report?” Kristeer asked, addressing the head trainer.

“13E shows aptitude for identifying problems and adapting initial plans accordingly when new issues arise. His mind demonstrates more flexibility than most of our other assets.”

“What about psychological issues?”

“He’s been stable. Nothing like 4E and 9E.”

“Good boy,” Kristeer murmured, his hand stroking his cheek now. “Very good.”

Closing his eyes, he smiled, happy to please his master. He didn’t understand all their words, but making his master proud was all that mattered anyway.

Alex’s hands fisted at his sides. Not yet ten years old, but by then he’d already been subjected to Kristeer’s abuse. Knowing nothing else, he’d accepted it as the man’s right. Aware only that he preferred Kristeer’s praise over his discipline, he’d done his best to please him, playing right into the bastard’s mind games.

No good came from lingering over the past; it could never be changed. Cursing the lack of control that seemed to be haunting him since yesterday, he pushed the memory away.

But a few words lingered. Adapting initial plans accordingly when new issues arise…

His head snapped up and he stared at himself in the mirror. The dinner over, he’d gone past the point up to which he’d planned. The asteroid field: Matt, Hayeston, slavery, himself… too many unpredictable factors had prevented him from knowing what to do next. He’d had some ideas, but Muldane’s regression this morning had cratered those along with his hopes.

The depression he’d felt in the shower was replaced by renewed determination. He’d known this wouldn’t be easy, but last night had made him foolishly hopeful. It was time he walked into this with a clear head.

 If Matt was going to be stubborn, he’d just have to alter his plans.


Chapter 7