I Was An Alien Cat Toy (34 page)

would, knowing he had done what needed to be done.

~~~~~~~~

T’meen sent a message through Karwa that he was too tired to eat supper, and asking if he could be

excused. Gredar only heard about it when he came to supper himself. His mother said it was understandable

that T’meen was tired, and took that opportunity to tell the family that their huu-man friend would be leaving

soon. Gredar half-wished T’meen could have seen how much genuine regret there was at that news, but then

it would probably have upset him more. It upset Gredar, certainly, and he waited the barest minimum time

that was polite before excusing himself from the meal. His mother and sisters gave him worried looks as he

stood, but he couldn’t find it in himself to force a smile.

T’meen was working at Gredar’s desk, and studiously ignored Gredar as he came in.

“You want a bath?” Gredar thought it was worth a try.

T’meen kept on with his notes. “No. No bath. Need to be smelly, make huu-man think I live out

there.” He flung his hand in the general direction of the wilds beyond the village. “Will sleep at Martek’s if

too smelly for you.”

Gredar came and sat by the desk, waited until T’meen flung his pencil down and glared at him.

“Why?” he demanded.

“Because you are good friend. Gredar luff T’meen. Understand?”

“No. No understand. Is no hurry, you say. Now is hurry, now...is no time.” T’meen hugged himself as

he stared, wide-eyed and shaking, at Gredar. “Just...want time. More time. Little more time. You take. Is no

time.”

Gredar bowed low. “Is very, very sorry, T’meen.”

There was silence for some time. He stayed bent down until he heard the quiet words.

“Gredar...please...please...?”

He straightened up and found T’meen holding out trembling arms. Gredar leaned over and let his

friend cling hard to him. “Oh, my little friend, I will miss you. Come to bed.”

T’meen, probably only understanding the last few words, whispered, “Yes.”

Gredar lifted him up and carried him over to the bed, laid him down. He could smell T’meen’s

distress, the sadness that seemed to leak from his pores. Everything about him was tense, miserable, desperate, and it was so very hard to believe that what Gredar had insisted upon really was the best thing for

his friend. He’d never seen sorrow this deep before and didn’t know if a person could survive it. Had he

ruined T’meen’s life, in trying to help? “I meant for the best,” he murmured, as he started to undo the fiddly

bindings on the shooz. As Gredar removed all the things that stood between his tongue and T’meen’s naked

skin, T’meen just lay there and watched him, eyes following every movement, his breathing deep and painful

sounding, like sighs.

Once the last paznit thing was taken off and laid carefully aside, T’meen slid his arms around

Gredar’s neck. “Is sorry I shout. Is...just very sad.”

“Yes, I know. Want sex now?”

T’meen nodded. “Want
you
here now. Gredar...Cheng come maybe very soon. Maybe one, two sun

pass. Is little time.”

“Yes. But even long time is not enough, to lose friend, yes?”

“Yes.” T’meen bit his lip and turned his head away. “I...have no words.”

“No need for words. Shhh.” He gently removed T’meen’s grip around his neck, and made him lie flat.

Then Gredar stretched out beside him, and put his hand on T’meen’s stomach, claws a little extended so he

could rake them carefully over T’meen’s skin. T’meen shivered as the fine points traced down his belly, over

his hip and down his right leg. His kala was limp, but Gredar wasn’t concerned about that just yet. He just

wanted to make his friend feel more relaxed, less unhappy, and in the past, touch was the one sure way

they’d found to do that.

T’meen watched him as he stroked his claws so very gently against the fragile skin. So many scars

now—where there had been virtually none when Gredar had first met him. He bent and licked one of the

worst, tasting the small trace of salt that would normally have been removed in a bath or a wash before now.

“Is sorry for this thing. Is sorry you were hurt.”

“Not you. You no do this thing.” T’meen reached over and began to scritch his fingers in Gredar’s

fur, digging in deep as if trying to reach the skin. “If Filwui not do this thing, you no learn I talk, yes?

So...maybe is good, this bad thing.”

“Maybe. Am happy Filwui is dead, you are not dead.”

“Yes. But am happy...you learn I can talk. Is happy...is your friend. Not pet now.”

“Not pet, no.” He leaned in again and licked T’meen’s face. More salt. So much sadness. He licked

along T’meen’s forehead, along the hairline. Down the strange, flat, immobile ears that were so delicately

shaped. He’d spent a lot of time sketching just this single body part, fascinated by how different it was to any

ear he’d seen on any creature before. He licked down T’meen’s neck, tasting the skin over the throbbing

pulse. Strange also that huu-man exposed such vulnerability. Daiyne veins were buried deep behind muscle

and bone, so a predator couldn’t easily strike and rip them out. But this...he could slice with a single slice of

his smallest claw. He licked the pulse again, and wished huu-man were not such frail things. So easily

damaged, and yet such precious creatures. Such dangerous creatures, but then daiyne were dangerous too.

T’meen knew Gredar could kill him without effort, and yet he lay there, so trusting, so willing to accept the

differences between them.

He couldn’t help himself—he had to reanoint T’meen with his scent, rubbing up and down his face,

his chest, even onto his stomach. When he was done, he found T’meen looking at him, mouth turned down.

“Scent no strong enough, help you find me in my home. Is too far. Your scent...I will no smell you, I think.

Too far to smell.”

“I will know your scent always. Long time, far away. Anywhere. You come back, I will know you.”

“I can’t. Gredar, I can’t come back. Please...no say this thing. Make me sad, too sad.”

“Sorry.” He licked T’meen’s face again, licked across his closed eyes, licked down the middle of his

chest and over the small brown nipples (he still didn’t know why huu-man males had nipples and no taeng,

when daiyne males were just the opposite. A taeng was much more useful.) T’meen fisted the fur on Gredar’s

shoulders—he always lost a little control when he was licked this way. Gredar knew every place on his body

where he could give the greatest pleasure, and he carefully explored each one now. The shivery skin on

T’meen’s side, the softness under his arm, above his elbow. The inside of his thigh, close to his balls, and the

balls themselves, contracted in their wrinkly naked sacs, so ugly and yet so revealing of mood. Gredar found

them repulsive but fascinating—though he’d never told T’meen that because he suspected it wasn’t very

polite.

And then the kala, which was gradually thickening and going rigid even without a tongue to tease it.

Gredar loved to see how hard it would get before he actually touched it—now it was fully erect, bobbing

over the tight balls. He glanced up—T’meen’s eyes were screwed shut, his body tense and his hands in fists.

Already, the scent from T’meen’s kala was having an effect on Gredar’s own body, but...he didn’t want to

ask for anything tonight. Tonight he just wanted to give. So he would be strong and....

“Gredar. Please? Let me?”

T’meen sat up, and reached for him, pushing him back. Gredar resisted. “I want to....”

“No,” his friend said. “
I
want to. Please?”

“Okay.” Whatever he wanted. He lay back. T’meen didn’t move between his legs as usual. Instead he

sat beside Gredar, and began to stroke the fur on Gredar’s stomach in a rather distracted way. “No need sex,

if you are tired.”

“What? Oh. No. Is tired but want sex. Just...fur is elsart. Want...remember. You elsart.”

“Cheng is elsart?”

A brief smile. “No. Yes. To me, is elsart. Maybe not to you. Is tall, more than me. Big.” He puffed out

his chest, held his arms out to show someone broader than him. “Has no fur. No tail. No tail, is very sad

thing.”

“Yes. Tail is good.” He proved it by using it to tickle T’meen’s side and make him smile again. “Arse

is good too, though. Is right word, ‘arse’? What’s so funny?”

“You say ‘arse’. Just...is funny. For huu-man, is funny word.”

“Huh.” But though he pretended to be offended, he was pleased to see more smiles. “T’meen’s arse is

funny for daiyne too.” His friend stuck his tongue out, which Gredar now knew to be a sign of great derision.

He copied the gesture and T’meen chortled. “You are rude.”

T’meen poked him. “Hah. Have bigger tongue,
you
are rude. More rude.”

“Yes. I am bigger, can be more rude.”

“This is true thing.”

He resumed his stroking, a little less careful, applying more pressure. The way Gredar liked it, if he

was being stimulated for sex. He wasn’t sure that was what was going on. T’meen was still thoughtful and

sad, though maybe not as sad as he had been.

Suddenly, T’meen bent forward and rested his head on Gredar’s stomach. “Maybe...no want sex now?

Just...want to touch. Is okay?”

“Is fine, my friend.” He urged him to get more comfortable, and hooked one of the furs T’meen like

to use, over his friend’s back. He slid his hand underneath so he could still stroke him. “Want to touch too. Is

okay?”

“Yes. Please.” T’meen put his arm across Gredar, and nuzzled at his stomach. “Is elsart. Always

remember this thing.”

Gredar wasn’t sure if that was a command or just T’meen talking to himself, but it didn’t matter.

What did matter was that T’meen smelled and sounded much less upset and stressed, and if he was still sad,

that was probably unavoidable. It wasn’t possible for this not to hurt him. Gredar was just aiming for

bearable. T’meen’s own strong character would have to do the rest.

He put his free hand carefully on T’meen’s hair and began to comb it through with his claws. He’d

hoped to see it regrow to its former extent—now he never would. But he’d seen it grow a little, like he’d seen

T’meen change and adapt to a strange and frightening situation. Would he adapt to life back in his home,

after so long away? Would his experiences scar his mind as they had his body? Gredar was seized with worry

that he was sending his friend back without anyone there who knew what had happened to him. Was Cheng

wise enough to cope?

“Gredar? You angry?”

“No. Is not angry. Just thinking. You sleeping?”

“Nearly. Touch me. No stop.”

“No stop,” he agreed, and began to comb through the black hair again. “You sleep. Will protect.”

T’meen looked up, stared at him so long that Gredar became a little unnerved. “What?”

“Is no need, protect. Is need only...friend. Okay?”

“Okay. But sleep. Need sleep.”

“Yeah. Yes. I need sleep.” He muttered something else, and then settled down.

Gredar reached over and turn the lamp to the lowest setting. One more night, two more nights maybe,

was all he had left with T’meen. So while he had this time, Gredar would watch over him. It was what he

needed to do.

~~~~~~~~

The deed done, Temin wavered between wishing Jeng would just get here already, and half-hoping

the solar ionisation meant it would be months before anyone picked up the signal. The first burst of anger and

agony spent, he now just felt tired, and sad, and wanted to make sure that however much time he had left

with his friends, he didn’t waste. If he’d asked Gredar to spend these last few days at his side, his friend

would have agreed without hesitation—so Temin didn’t, because it was an abuse of their friendship that

dishonoured all they had shared. Instead, he himself made time to be with Gredar while he helped Jilen and

her kitlings, to sit with Wilna for a half hour and talk about her eggs, and about the sorrow she still felt about

Halit. She said she was glad to have a chance to say farewell, and to his surprise and pleasure, made sure she

rubbed her scent on him very thoroughly. So did Jilen, who also insisted he hold each of her kitlings one

more time before he left, even though they were getting to be a real handful. She smiled as he struggled with

a playful Shiri. “You father kitlings, in your home?”

“No. I want to, maybe. Two sisters, have kitlings. Miss them.”

“Yes.” She patted his shoulder. “You like Gredar. Should be female.” She chuckled at his expression.

Gredar, watching them, smiled at the joke. “Will miss you. Is sad.”

His throat tightened, as it always seemed to do in conversations now. “Yes. Will miss you all too.”

Martek was resigned to him going, but then he was old and had seen his friends come and go—die, or

leave because they were surplus males or because they preferred to be unattached to a clan. To him, Temin

wasn’t leaving his life because Martek had made a record of him, and would continue to, extracting information from the handheld, writing up the slaying of the boril, and the recollections of those who’d

known him. Temin would live on in the clan, in Martek’s books, long after both of them were dead, and that

was kind of nice, he thought.

Karwa was also resigned, because he was young and the finality of Temin’s departure hadn’t really

hit him—Temin wasn’t going to try and drum it home either. There were enough sad faces around him. But