[lotrips] drabbles ii
Dom was down on the floor again. On his back and panting, frustration leaking into his blood, but he wasn't going to let that little fucker keep doing this, wasn't going to let Billy continue to wear his better-than-you grin, looking down at him sprawled after anticipating and disarming him yet another time.
Again, Billy said, you need to focus, Dom, and they went again and Dom blocked Billy twice, got in a kick to his knees, before Billy had him - somehow - twisted and face down on the carpet, hands behind his back.
Pttthh, spat Dom with a faceful of dust. He wriggled under Billy's grasp - Oi, let go - until Billy said I know you can do better than this, and Dom arched back, up onto his knees with Billy's small hand firm on his wrists and Billy's long fingers curling around him, soft over sweatpants. I'm trying, Dom breathed, trying but you're so good, Billy, so good, good, good, yes, Billy, all stuttered in time with Billy's strokes, heartbeat pace.
*
Let me, Billy says. Orlando rips his velcro collar while Billy tugs the zipper all-the-way-down, stares blatantly at revealed skin, slicks his tongue over a saltwashed bruise, murmuring again, again, paint flaking off the railings under Orlando's stuttering hands when Billy pushes inside him.
*
Let me, Orlando says. He twists so Billy can tip powder on his curved spine, and he doesn't flinch under the razor, because that's half the thrill, and the other half is Billy's throaty groan when he inhales, and Orlando can move over him and watch his pupils constrict and dilate, again and again.
*
A voluntary novice shaved his head. Another stripped him, gesturing - strict silence was maintained - to the robe he was to wear. A doctor sliced the net-plug from Dominic's arm. His head blanked white with the withdrawal.
He was assigned to the orchidhouses. A tall boy dressed in convicted white - like him - took his hands and examined them carefully, rubbed his thumb across Dominic's ring. A chip was implanted in the platinum to monitor him, to detect his forbidden voice.
There were means of rebellion, Dominic discovered. Working amid the heady scents, the boy's brown eyes smiled whole conversations for him.
*
:: relay 2.6 ns;
:: docking: Reciprocal Altruism to Grossly Exaggerated (sub-sentient);
When his ship communicated, he always felt humbled, felt the constraints of wet-neurons. Too slow.
*
"You like surprises."
"Yes." Billy had his hands entangled in her hair, long strands pale and fine around his fingers. She was kneeling; he was not. She still wore her sleek gray uniform; he was naked. He looked down.
"Your eyes are the same."
Cateli smiled with little teeth, a pink tongue. Still the same, Billy thought. Same, different he murmured when she used them on him.
*
"Slow, Billy," she said, under him.
*