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Dark Side of the Moon by Roo
It had been less than six months since he left Eos, escaping the silken comfort of Iason’s bed. Less than six months and the hunger had not cooled. Despite the companionship of his gang Bison, and the cloying care and attention from his former lover Guy, Riki found himself distracted. The memory of that moon-soaked bedroom, Iason hot and hard upon him, that deep, iniquitous voice whispering out demands of mutual pleasure. Even the seductive charm of those steely strong arms wrapped around him as he slept. Like lost and tormented spirits, these thoughts haunted Riki relentlessly. At first, he thought to silence his weakness in Stout, but the drink only left his mind hazy, clouded, all too susceptible to the ever-present longing. Sometimes, when Riki drifted between the worlds of dreaming and awake, he could feel the whisper-touch of a blonde lock upon his cheek, or misty-hot breath across the shell of his ear. The musky scent of Iason would gently waft over him, and the tiny hairs on his skin would tingle and rise in delighted anticipation. In times like these, when the illusions felt so real that he could weep, he questioned his sanity. His only consolations were these aimless walks along the deserted, forbidding streets. Almost every night, Riki’s feet would take him to the spot where he first met his master. Where Iason had saved him, then claimed him, and finally damned him to this constant state of restless wanting. Here, in this place, Riki could mourn over the injustices of his life; the rain would cry the tears he could not shed. No matter where Riki went, no matter which life he chose, the emptiness of unfulfilled desire consumed him. He felt more trapped without Iason than when he had when he worn the chains of a pleasure slave. At least then, it had been Iason’s blame entirely, and he could utter false protests to save his broken pride. But now alone, cold and dripping wet, near starving and wandering half-mad in an abandoned alley… Not even Riki’s pride could deliver him from Iason’s victorious sensuality.
Six months, and not a word. Long, elegant fingers encased in fine white gloves drilled quietly over Iason’s desk. The Blondie sat so still as to make a marble statue jealous. Only the rise and fall of his chest and the almost inaudible tapping of his fingertips proved him alive and human. His ice-blue eyes carved into the night spread across the window before him. To anyone else, it would appear as if he had gone insane. But Iason knew better. Too easy an escape, madness. Somewhere out beyond the bright lights of Tanagura, Riki huddled just beyond his reach. Like a hound with the scent of blood, Iason’s thoughts could not be turned from the boy. Images of Riki plagued him, drove him, jabbed pitchforks of frustration into his stomach, and still he did nothing. He sat perfectly still, exercising every ounce of will to remain passive. He must appear unconcerned. He must allow this foolishness for a little while longer, at least. He must prove he had the ultimate control. But… As time wore on, the need for Riki became greater, growing stronger, threatening to overwhelm him. Iason knew it defied explanation. A thousand times Raoul had beseeched him for answers—Why this mongrel? What was so special about the mutt? What could possibly tempt Iason’s obsession? And a thousand times Iason could not put his reasons into words. How to describe Riki’s spirit, fire and unshielded soul? How to explain the velvet feeling of the boy’s bare skin against his own? The little gasps and breaths that shattered past perfect pink lips? Those narrow hips lifting in tandem to his unforgiving thrusts. That defiant air and haughty look that challenged him every time, making him want to take, break, wield, mold and dominate into bliss every last invisible essence of Riki the Dark. The whispering desire to hold him gently in the aftermath of that blitz of lust… Sometimes Iason felt like the sun, yearning to steal behind the dark side of the moon.
Instantly the red-head’s graceful visage appeared on the tele-communicator. Silent. Grave. Obedient. Katze. "I have a task for you."
"Who’s there? What do you want?" His voice sounded less threatening than he had hoped. No one answered him, but something sinister shifted behind a garbage tin, causing a bottle to break upon the asphalt. At the crack of shattering glass, Riki skitted forward, kicking the can over swiftly in preparation for a fight… …Only to stop in his tracks as a scant black object fell like a lump of coal to the ground. He peered at it for a moment, then bent over to get a better look. Two jade-green eyes flashed up at him, followed by a sharp hiss. A kitten. A little black kitten. Riki huffed out an anxious breath and laughed at his own stupidity. He turned to continue on his way, surprised when the small fury monster followed after him. "Ho? Want to come along with me little fella? I ain’t got nothin’ you’d want…" Riki chuckled. "I can’t even feed myself!" Even as he said this, he walked over to the tangled mass of cat and picked it up by the scruff of its neck. It fought like Hell, but Riki expected that. Without further thought, he tucked the struggling creature into the folds of his leather jacket, trying not to shiver as the wet coat rubbed against his aching belly. The mangy devil scratched and bit, but luckily he was just drunken enough not to care. They walked along together, and after a while, the kitten settled into the safeguard of Riki’s leather cocoon. He knew the animal had fallen asleep when it didn’t even stir at the growl of his empty stomach. Sighing, he paused in front of a noodle shop, trying not to salivate as he watched the patrons eat their late night meals. Even if he couldn’t afford to go in, he could at least savor the aroma. "May I buy you a bowl?" A deep, rich voice melted into Riki’s awareness. Oh wonderful, another freak looking for a quick fuck. He wasn’t that hungry. "Get lost assho---Katze!" The faint impression of a smile flashed across the red-head’s face as he nodded slightly. "Riki." The tone, warm and affectionate, resembled nothing of the Furniture Riki had known previously. Panic gripped him wholly, and Riki’s chilled limbs began to stiffen and tremble. Vaguely Riki realized the kitten had awakened, its tiny claws digging into his flesh with perturbed skill. But he couldn’t think to move or speak. "Riki," Katze murmured, staring at him. "Relax. I am not here to take you back." Not back. The words slowly sunk in and Riki pulled himself together within a matter of moments. "Then why are you here?" Again, that flicker of upturned lips. With Katze, nothing ever seemed certain. "I am in the neighborhood on an errand." Riki nodded, knowing that meant Katze ran the errand for Iason. He couldn’t help but suspect that it involved him. "And?" "And I saw you, and thought you might be interested in sharing dinner with me." Always straight to the point, Katze. Never any flowery language or false pretenses. He wanted to buy him dinner. But the catch? A long silence followed; Riki could do little more than gape up at Katze’s lavender eyes. "If… if you don’t want my company, I understand." Katze bowed and turned to go. Something in Riki clicked into place. He didn’t want to be alone tonight. "You buying?" Katze turned back to face him and grinned. "Of course." Warm and dry, the noodle shop seemed inviting enough a place to stop and rest. Riki thought to sit at one of the tables, but Katze went directly over to the service bar and took a stool. Warily, he followed the man’s example and sat beside him. Riki stared unabashedly at Katze while the Furniture ordered noodles and warm beer. He kept staring as Katze lit up a cigarette and took a long drag. Finally, with an air too casual not to be finessed, the red-head looked over at him. "What?" "You’ve changed," Riki murmured over the voices around them. He couldn’t quite make it out, but something in Katze’s manner seemed more gentle, less guarded. "No, I haven’t." Riki frowned, not quite sure how to put it. "Yes. You have changed, with me. You’re… you’re being nice." Katze shrugged. "So?" "So, it makes me nervous." Katze chuckled. "Understandable. But don’t worry, I’m not going to try anything with you." Riki folded his arms over the bar, his frown deepening slightly. "No, I didn’t think that you would. I am just curious as to the purpose of our sudden meeting." "Does there have to be a purpose to our meeting?" Katze’s tongue gently licked the base of his cigarette as he took it out of his mouth and blew a puff of noxious smoke into Riki’s eyes. Riki did not let his gaze waiver. "Both of us are street rats. You should know better than to try a lie." Katze’s eyes narrowed dangerously. "I have yet to tell you a lie, Riki." Even, measured tones betrayed tempered anger. "Look. I’m here. You’re here. You’re hungry, and I’m offering. Don’t make me regret it, OK?" Riki looked down at the squirming bulge in his jacket, heard his stomach growl louder than the tiny beast, and decided to let it go. Too tired to really care anymore. The food came shortly and Riki broke his chopsticks evenly before scooping a pile of steaming ramen up to his lips. The liquid heat brought tears to his eyes, and he forced himself to blow on his food before taking a huge mouthful. Oh, the stuff was sheer heaven. Warm and thick and creamy in its broth. When had he last eaten? What day? Damn, it felt so good! Riki opened his eyes to see Katze giving him an unusual look. "Wha?" Katze said nothing, merely poured him a tall mug of hot cider beer and slid the cup over to him. Riki drank around his flavored pasta, taking a big sweeping gulp. "Don’t make yourself sick," Katze warned quietly. They ate in silence, Riki trying not to bolt his dinner, Katze taking petite morsels here and there. Eventually everyone else filtered out of the shop, and the quiet between them became companionable. Though not a word had been uttered in a full ten minutes, the tension had dissipated significantly. Riki felt grateful for the meal, but he knew he didn’t have to say so. Katze could sense that, certainly. The Furniture watched him finish slurping up the broth from his bowl with an almost fraternal expression on his face. Riki smiled and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The sudden movement caused the kitten to mew, and the shop owner gave Riki a heated look. Grinning, he winked at the old man behind the counter. "You got any milk for my friend here?" "Humph. Get that animal out of my establishment this instant! It’s unsanitary!" Riki prepared to launch into a heated argument when Katze interrupted him. "A bowl of milk. Please." The red-head reverted back to a cold, calculating machine right before Riki’s eyes, flashing Iason’s Furniture signet nonchalantly. Quickly the man obeyed, and soon the kitten lapped at the cream in a plastic ramen dish. Riki watched the stray devour the milk, heedless of its offensive slurping and sucking noises. The memory of his similar behavior during dinner made him blush slightly. He cleared his throat and muttered, "I should know better, keeping him like this. A Pet owning a pet. Now that’s a riot." Katze did not spare him a glance. "Maybe you should have him neutered and then you can keep him as Furniture." His tone sounded so acerbic it could have eroded the bar top. Riki grinned. "Naw. He’s got too nice a disposition to be Furniture. Furniture have to be all surly and bitchy like you…" When Katze turned to fix him with a glare, Riki defiantly stuck out his tongue and before long, both men were laughing. "What’s his name?" the red-head inquired, gently petting the furball. Riki thought for a moment. "Soot." "Creative." A wad of bills transferred from wallet to counter as Katze stood to leave. "Keep the change," the man mouthed around his cigarette. Riki stood also. "Got to be getting back then?" Katze nodded. "Can I give you a lift somewhere? You’ll be sick walking around in all this rain. And it’s not good for Soot, either." The man picked the kitten up with one hand and tucked it under his arm. "Come on, this way." Scuffling slightly, Riki trotted behind him until they reached the car. He regretted his decision instantly, as the cabin of the vehicle permeated with Iason’s cologne. His hands clenched into fists upon his thighs and Riki screwed his eyes shut, trying to school his emotions. Fever tickled sweat out of his brow. "Something wrong, Riki?" "Brings back old times." Did his voice really sound that hoarse? "Hn. Where to?" Riki mumbled out directions as they made the way back to his apartment. At first he worried that Katze would be lost in the rain, but he seemed well enough acquainted with the slums. It was he, not Katze, that felt dizzy and lost, like a ship tossed about on an angry sea. Soon enough, they were parked in front of his building. "Nice place." "Sure. It’s great." Riki couldn’t bring himself to get out of the car. It smelled of him. The seat still gave off the heat from his masculine body. The silver handles and windows gleamed all unmarred, as Iason always wore his white gloves. But the trace of Iason remained unmistakable. "Riki?" "Yeah?" Katze just looked at him through the rear-view mirror and Riki knew he had to eventually start speaking. "Is he… is he well?" he whispered. He could feel his cheeks do a slow burn as Katze regarded him silently, falling rain the only sound for a long while. "No. I do not think he is." Katze reached down to light another cigarette. Curiosity won out. "What’s wrong with him?" Katze took a long drag before saying anything. "Nothing, on the outside. On the inside… I think he misses you, Riki." "Spare me." Katze said nothing more, and the seconds turned into uncomfortable minutes. "Did he send you to check up on me? Katze?" Katze still held his gaze in the mirror. "He sent me to make sure you were all right." "Fuck!" Conflicting emotions swelled up inside him like a flooded dam. This tasted bitter, and unwanted. "It’s not his fucking business!" Katze waited until he finished his little tantrum and then murmured, "You were cold and hungry, weren’t you?" Shame set in. What kind of response did Katze want? Shit, rip the skin right off his nose, while he’s at it, huh? He felt so god-awful. Wretched. That’s it. Totally wretched. "Maybe I was. But I wasn’t asking for favors." Katze turned around sharply. "Well good for you, Riki." Riki gasped slightly, the look in those amethyst eyes startling him. He couldn’t fathom why Katze would be so quick to defend the man who emasculated and degraded him to mere Furniture. The air hung thick with smoke and the scent of his master. Strange how it didn’t choke him as he had expected. He found himself taking deep, savoring gulps of air. "You said he misses me. Will he try and come for me? Now that…." Riki glanced up at his apartment. "Now that he knows where I live?" Katze’s expression remained one of stone. "Possibly. He already knew where you lived…" Riki’s eyes were drawn down to the red-head’s mouth as he took another long drag on that slender white cigarette. "Take care of him." A slender eyebrow crooked in response and Riki shifted nervously. "I mean, take care of him so he doesn’t bother me anymore." Katze nodded and reached over to the passenger seat, picking up Soot in one large, callused hand. "Take care of yourself, and he won’t come bothering you." Riki took Soot, trying hard not to get lost in Katze’s eyes. "I… I can’t… keep…" "What?" "I can’t keep….uh, Soot. I can’t afford him." They sat there staring at each other for several beats, the white smoke trailing like a thin veil over Katze’s assessing eyes. The red-head nodded and took Soot back from Riki. "What are you going--" "I got mice. Maybe Soot here can help me with that when he grows up some." Katze took the cigarette out of his mouth and extinguished it in the ashtray before resting Soot on his lap. Riki smiled. "Yeah. OK then." Steadying himself, Riki scooted towards the door. "Thanks, I guess. And for dinner, too." He opened the car door and stepped halfway out. "Riki!" The rain muffled Katze’s voice a bit, but the desperation carried over the uproar. "Remember what I said. About taking care of yourself. Keep out of trouble, and you’ll buy yourself time." Riki stood there in the downpour, nodding, not really understanding what Katze meant, but feeling the need to give some sign that he had heard. He let some affection creep into his features as he yelled, "You too, Katze." Slamming the door with finality, he hurried to his building. Only a matter of time.
Why did that pain hurt worse than any other? Iason would never come for him. Didn’t that little episode with Bison prove that he had only meant to toy with Riki? To show him that he would never matter to the Blondie? Something inside him had begun freezing, hardening, and numbing him until he could feel nothing but icy-hot hate and fear. He loathed himself for still wanting his master. But more than that, he feared how his disgusting, wanton desires would cripple him forever. Without Iason he would never feel complete. Iason… Riki began furiously scrubbing away at his back and arms, not caring when the soapy water sloshed over the glass walls of his module. He scraped at his flesh, letting it turn pink and even break open in places, wanting the pain to drive away the memories of pleasure. Useless. He stopped, resting both hands on the wall, panting slightly. He let the water fall all about him, not even blinking as rivulets ran around his open eyes and down over his nose and lips. Lips so soft, so demanding and unyielding every night, forcing Riki to open his mouth, to allow the tender invasion. Forcing him to want it, return it, crave it. Facing his weakness tore him open. Like the laser shots fired upon his men, tearing their flesh, branding them with scars and ripping open wounds that leaked red, red blood. Blood that trickled from his bottom lip as he fought off the impending release from that molten silk mouth, those sapphire eyes. Questing hands undeterred, seeking every secret and weakness to use against him. "Iason!" Riki’s eyes blinked open in astonishment, staring at the white ejaculate sliding down the transparent wall. There dripped evidence of his spending without even having touched himself. He closed his eyes, wanting very much to die. Perhaps he should just end it all tonight? He stepped out of the shower and toweled himself off, walking slowly into the bedroom. His last thoughts centered on how to take his life, and then he opened his eyes and gasped in utter shock. "Ia….Iason! What the hell are you doing here? Get out! I never want to see your face again!" "I’ve come to fetch you." A steel soft voice laced in pure sex. He knew that voice too well. Oh, Riki could protest, could cry bloody murder, but they both knew where this would go tonight. Iason looked gorgeous- radiant and eternal, like the sun. His hair fell farther past his waist. He looked paler, thinner somehow, but still just as unapproachably beautiful. Riki couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even swallow. He didn’t register what he babbled at Iason as he backed up to the bed. Desperate to delay the inevitable, Riki bellowed the first thing that came to mind. "What about Guy!" "I don’t know. Maybe I could tamper with his mind a bit, make him a docile sex doll?" Guy? Hot headed, dumb-witted, harmless old Guy? Not a single design in his character resembled the fabric of a pleasure salve. "You’re… you’re joking!" That unique musk filled up his senses as Iason leaned possessively over him, and he shuddered at the power that his master still retained. "Have you ever known me to tell a joke?" "What do you want?" "Return to Eos. The game is up." Riki watched helplessly as Iason removed tailored clothing slowly, his mind desperately clawing for a way out, his body rebelling and singing out to his master. "Why me! Didn’t you set me free?" "Riki," Iason’s mesmerizing voice crashed over Riki as his master stripped off his Blondie attire. "I hope you haven’t mistaken me…" Now only a skin-tight black body suit covered Iason’s svelte form, and Riki found himself breathing hard, near hysterical. "I let you go, but I still hold your pet license. You are now… and always will be… my Pet." Delirium teased at Riki’s mind. Iason wanted him… to return as his Pet. Rage, despair and lust warred for Riki’s attention as his master removed his robe and placed his Pet ring over his traitorous cock. With a familiar arrogance, Iason began to stroke Riki’s penis until his shaft stood fully, flagging his desire openly. "Someday… someday I’ll kill you!" He gripped Iason’s sleeve as the waves of tight heat rolled over his hardness, and he fought to keep his hips from bucking up off the bed. Riki broke the thin flesh of his lip in his efforts to deny Iason any satisfaction. "Only you could say that to a Blondie." Such warmth in that voice. Such admiration. "What’s wrong?" Iason’s tongue licked the trail over his crimson-streaked chin in the most sinful manner, and Riki’s resistance faded like breath staining a mirror. "Let me see you say it." Riki gulped and forced himself to whisper out the words he’d caged for over a year. "Do it to me." "Yes." Iason’s voice sounded strained. "That’s better…" The first few kisses were long and gentle tastes, but after a year of fasting, the passion could not be denied. Iason pressed him deliciously to the bed, hungrily claiming his lips in a fervent kiss. Riki tilted his jaw upwards, wanting to feel it more. Somehow being forced into this relieved him of all pressures, stifled the self-hate. This was exactly what he wanted, what kept him waiting. Coward, he thought to himself. Iason let him bear the full weight of his body, and Riki exaulted in its burden. He wrapped his arms around Iason’s neck and surged up to meet him for another kiss, then stopped abruptly, aware of his fatal error. Iason stared into his eyes for a moment, both men hovering over the bed as if frozen to the spot. Then, understanding dawned over the Blondie’s features, and Riki felt his wrists captured in a vice-like grip above his head. Iason towered over him, his eyes drinking every inch of Riki thirstily. Slim, graceful fingers massaged Riki’s manhood confidently, making him hard in a matter of sheer, breathless seconds. Iason’s face rested but an inch away from Riki, the mortifying pleasure of his master’s intense scrutiny overpowering the secret shame. "No. Look at me. Open to me. Riki." Iason’s blue eyes enthralled Riki, and he could not prevent his hips from lifting off the bed for better gratification. Once Riki’s participation became apparent, Iason lowered those captive wrists to his sides, laving at the exposed flesh of Riki’s neck with practiced leisure. Moans escaped him as he fought to keep his eyes open. Iason took Riki's hand and delicately kissed each finger. Riki started as Iason placed the hand over his own heart and bent to lightly brush their mouths together. "Riki…" Riki’s chest and abdomen were then coated with slick, scorching saliva, as Iason nipped and kissed a determined path southward, towards his throbbing erection. He gripped the bedsheets as Iason deliberated for a few maddening moments, sighing as he finally entered the honey-sweet warmth of his master’s mouth. It had been too long, and now the ache to be claimed by Iason engulfed the very core of his being… That thick, moist tongue wrapped around his shaft, swirling in circles with a rapidly increased pace until Riki lay panting, dazed. When Iason had tired of playing that game, he lowered his head until those pale lips grazed the dark pubic curls at the apex of Riki’s thighs. Then he slowly withdrew, sucking on Riki’s enflamed maleness all the way up. With a teasing look, Iason lashed at the head of Riki’s penis with the tip of his tongue. "Iason!" No sooner had he called out to his master then Iason surged up over him, spreading Riki’s legs wide until his kneecaps brushed against his shoulders. His voice sounded heavy and dangerous to Riki. "I’ve waited past enduring, Riki. I cannot wait any longer, I must have you!" Riki screamed pitifully as his master entered him roughly, that engorged cock rifling deeply into his unprepared chasm. His master held deathly still for a moment, but Riki still could not catch his breath. Iason’s sweaty brow bent to touch Riki’s forehead, and he scarcely made out the pained whisper, "Forgive me…" Those two words cracked something deep within. Taking two handfuls of golden hair, Riki pulled Iason down for a tentative kiss. "Do it to me," he murmured huskily. Nodding, Iason held him tightly to his position, bending him in half, curving him to fulfill his owner’s desires. Slow, deliberate strokes meant to intoxicate precipitated their frenzied coupling. Iason took some time and care building the crescendo. Riki thought that his master showed amazing restraint after being so long deprived of their joining, but he knew it could not last. Abandoning his shields of hate and fear, he simply clung to Iason as a maelstrom of wild lust pitched into his veins. Barbarous. Iason’s thrusts became wild, almost cruel in their intensity. The bed threatened to break. Riki himself could not silence his throaty admonitions and encouraging whimpers to be savagely taken. "Iason… Iason…. Iason…." The Blondie bowed over him, melding their lips together while plundering his shaft deep into Riki. Flames of gold hair canopied their faces as Iason ate at the corners of his mouth. The Blondie’s abdomen provided incredible friction, and Riki pressed himself up to Iason, resting his chin over the man’s shoulder, pandering to Iason for more contact with breathy little moans. When Iason bit down possessively on Riki’s shoulder bone, his pent-up lust burst forth, spraying his milky essence over Iason’s throat and chest. His master broke away slightly, grunting fiercely as he slowed the tempo of his thrusts. Riki could feel the weight of Iason’s twin sack rhythmically press upon the smooth flesh of his spread buttocks; he savored the sensation of Iason’s turgid length filling him to the very brink. With one last desperate stroke forward, Iason fell from the precipice, coating Riki’s tender bowels with copious ropes of lust. Through the blaze of his sated bliss, Riki could see Iason wince with each fresh coming, the shear force of those releases jerking Iason a little deeper into Riki. It looked almost painful, and Riki gently brushed Iason’s hair out of his eyes as they waited for his master’s completion. Riki groaned as the blonde finally collapsed upon him, their breath mingling raggedly as they both struggled up from the depths of that drowning passion. Iason nuzzled his neck for a while, then licked away some salty-sweat at the dip of his throat, before returning to take a long, arduous kiss. As he fought to stay awake, Riki felt dimly aware of the back of Iason’s hand gently stroking his cheek. Sweet kisses cascaded like raindrops over his cheekbones and eyelids as Iason slowly pulled out. Riki cried out, cringing as he lowered his legs and tried to cope with the burning sensation between his legs. Iason stayed over him, kissing him softly on his chin and neck. The look in Iason’s eyes brooked no refusal. "Come back to me." Riki tiredly nodded his head, rolling over on his side, defeated. He raised his knees in the fetal position to ease the sizzling ache of his abused flesh, trying his best to fight back tears. And then Iason did something so tender, so sweet, and so completely unprecedented. The man pulled the covers up over them, turning Riki to the cradle of his neck and shoulder, and placed a chaste kiss upon his furrowed forehead. Smooth fingertips traced patterns over Riki’s back and buttocks, lulling him into a kind of trance. "Pack your things, and return to me tomorrow, Riki." That sensuous voice whispered into the envious night. "Yes, Iason," he whispered back. Riki slipped into dreaming easily, snug against Iason’s warm frame.
He looked so peaceful, lying there. His dark, unruly curls wisping over his face like that, his coal-black lashes feathering youthful cheeks. When Riki returned to Eos, Iason would make it up to him. He would drown him in adoration, make love to him for hours every night, and seduce Riki so thoroughly that he would never want to leave again. Iason vowed that not even death would part them as he leaned forward and placed a ghost-kiss upon Riki’s midnight hair. The Blondie gathered up his coat and gave the boy one last final look before walking out the door. He raked a careless hand through his golden mane, forcing his feet to move forward, his heart tumbling towards the dark side of the moon.
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