I Was An Alien Cat Toy (22 page)

Fortunately it didn’t have the same effect as his kala, though.

“Gredar?”

He turned away from the soaking cloze. “I’m okay. Gredar clean T’meen hair?”

T’meen looked up, blinking. He took rather a long time to decide, then he nodded. “Okay.”

Gredar handed him a cleaning leather for his use, then poured some water out of a dipper onto

T’meen’s black hair, fascinated by the way it wet so differently from jopa fur. T’meen went still as he did so,

and was unusually quiet as Gredar gently applied some of the wash to his hair, then rinsed. The texture of the

newly clean hair was...coarse, squeaky under his fingers. Strange.

T’meen was still not looking at him, rubbing slowly over the healing wounds on his arms with the

leather and more of the wash.

“T’meen is good?” Gredar asked, as he picked up another leather and began to wipe T’meen’s back

for him, wanting to make sure he and his injuries were properly cleaned.

“Martek say...make funny Gredar give T’meen Gredar scent. Is funny? Is...bad? Bad for Jilen?” He

looked up with his strange, dark eyes. “Is bad T’meen have Gredar scent? T’meen is bad?”

“No. T’meen is no bad. Gredar give T’meen scent...T’meen is Gredar friend.”

“Friend,” T’meen repeated, in the same way he’d questioned the tub. “Martek say funny T’meen is

Gredar friend. No.”

“Ye-ess. T’meen is Gredar friend. Martek...is silly.”

“Jilen no is silly. Jilen....” T’meen sniffed loudly, then pretended to smell Gredar’s hand. “No is

funny.”

Gredar stared at him helplessly. How to explain the etiquette of scent exchange when they were

barely communicating? “T’meen is Gredar
good
friend. Gredar give scent to good friend.”

“Jilen no like?”

“No,” Gredar admitted. “T’meen is not daiyne. She does not like. T’meen not
worry
. Gredar protect

T’meen.”

“Ye-ess.” T’meen looked up again. “Gredar no is huu-man.”

“No. T’meen worry?”

“No,” he said slowly, wiping his arms again, staring at the surface of the water. “Is strange.”

“Ye-ess. No bad, though. Gredar want to clean T’meen. May I?”

“Clean?” T’meen sounded wary.

“Ye-ess.” He mimed wiping him with the leather. “Help T’meen.”

“Okay.” He sat back and spread out his arms, resting them on the rim of the tub. “Okay.”

But he was trembling again. Gredar sat properly on the floor, and cupped his friend’s face in his hand.

“Gredar no hurt,” he said quietly. “T’meen is elsart. Gredar like T’meen much.” He bent forward and

carefully licked some of the water from T’meen’s face, before very deliberately rubbing his head—and the

scent gland near his eye—over T’meen’s naked skin. “Gredar give T’meen scent.”

T’meen touched his cheek, then sniffed at his fingers. “T’meen no smell.”

“Nose too small,” Gredar said, tapping the organ and chuckling. “No strong.”

T’meen made a movement with his eyebrows that Gredar suspected was sarcastic. “T’meen have

T’meen scent?”

“Ye-ess.” Gredar sniffed under his ear, before carefully licking his neck. Under the taste of the

disinfectant and bathwater, T’meen’s skin was faintly earthy, warm and smooth as fine grain leather, his

pulse a rapid, muted thud under Gredar’s exploring tongue. “T’meen scent is good.”

“T’meen is dirty. Need clean.” He reached out and poked Gredar. “Gredar clean T’meen, Gredar say.

Do.”

“Yes, master.” T’meen looked puzzled at the word. “Martek say tomorrow. Gredar tir-ed. Many

words.”

“Ye-ess. T’meen head....” He mimed his heading bursting at the seams, and Gredar laughed. “Many,

many words.”

Gredar nuzzled him. “Poor T’meen.” He rubbed scent on him again, just to make sure it took, then

picked up one of the cleaning leathers and began to wipe down T’meen’s bare skin. He’d have rather used his

tongue, but he thought his little huu-man might get huffy again about being treated like a kitling. Besides,

this way he could watch the expressions cross T’meen’s mobile face, even if he didn’t know exactly what lay

behind them. “Stand up. Clean legs.”

Though T’meen obeyed without hesitation, the trembling, which had eased a little, returned. “T’meen

no like? Scared?” Gredar was careful to keep his hands to himself.

“Little. No Gredar. Filwui. In here.” He pointed to his skull.

“Filwui no hurt T’meen. Gredar protect. T’meen belongs to Gredar.”

T’meen repeated the word with a confused cock of his head, and Gredar thought it best not to explain

too much. “T’meen is Gredar friend. Gredar protect.”

“Oh. Gredar no scare T’meen.”

“Good.” Gredar slid the leather down the fine, hairless limbs. They were straighter than a jopa’s, but

shaped nothing like a daiyne’s either. He recalled his sister’s remarks about wanting T’meen’s skeleton when

he died, and he shivered—he didn’t want to think of T’meen like that, just bones and dead meat. “Gredar

protect
,” he promised.

T’meen took Gredar’s head between his small hands. “Ye-ess. Understand. Gredar T’meen friend.

T’meen Gredar friend.
Good
friend.” He rubbed his face against Gredar’s, then let go. “T’meen is clean.”

“Wait. Sit.” While T’meen sank back into the hot water, Gredar quickly rinsed his cloze, checking by

smell that they were clean. If huu-man wore such things all the time, they had to spend a lot of time

maintaining them—such a nuisance. He hung the wet items on the rack he used for cleaning leathers, and the

other things he set neatly aside on the sink. He wondered how durable they were, and how they could be

replaced. If T’meen stayed for a long time, the issue was sure to arise. But for now, getting him dry and

warm was enough to deal with.

When he turned around, T’meen was out of the bath and wiping himself down with one of the

leathers, his movements slow and clumsy—his injuries were still troubling him, or perhaps it was just

fatigue. Gredar helped him, and then T’meen insisted on cleaning his teeth with the odd tool he had retrieved

from his sack for the purpose. Something else that would need replacing, but how they could when the very

material of construction was unknown, Gredar didn’t know. The tool was made of something hard, a little

like wood, but smoother and more flexible. Too warm to be metal, too bendy to be pottery. The brush-like

shape was familiar, though the tufts were also of unknown material. Yet another mystery about his huu-man

friend.

Gredar did his own clean up, and then, finding T’meen was shivering as he waited, simply scooped

him up into his arms and carried him into the bedroom. “T’meen no is kitling,” he grumbled, even as he

burrowed into Gredar’s fur. Gredar ignored the complaint—huu-man had their pride, but T’meen was cold,

and that was more important.

Gredar laid T’meen down on the bed and covered him with a pelt, then reached over and turned the

lamp down as low as he dared, leaving just enough light so T’meen could find his way around in the dark.

T’meen stared up at him as Gredar sat down. “Okay?” he asked, laying his hand carefully on T’meen’s belly

and rubbing a little, mindful of healing bruises and claw marks.

T’meen patted the bed in invitation, and Gredar needed no other. He lay down beside his friend, who

immediately attached himself to Gredar’s side, much to Gredar’s amusement. “T’meen cold?”

“Ye-ess. Gredar
warm
.”

“Good.” It was nice—like having a kitling to care for. It seemed quite natural to urge T’meen to climb

on top of him, so Gredar could hold him close, wrap T’meen firmly in his arms. But his huu-man hesitated,

digging his fingers into Gredar’s fur. “T’meen?”

“Is...okay? Gredar want...sex?”

Gredar blinked. T’meen’s vocabulary really had advanced. “T’meen want?” He hadn’t really been

thinking about sex at all, but then he hadn’t
not
been thinking about it. It was just background to his thoughts

as it always was.

T’meen lifted his head and said something Gredar couldn’t understand. He waited to see if T’meen

would explain, but all he did was start to stroke Gredar’s chest fur in a rather distracted way. Gredar got a

feeling that T’meen wanted to talk about something but didn’t have the words or facility with the language to

do so—a feeling Gredar knew well, lately. “What T’meen want?’ he prompted, cupping T’meen’s rump and

massaging it—T’meen squirmed but didn’t try and move away.

“Gredar...have taeng. T’meen no have taeng. Worry...no.” He corrected himself. “No...question?

Taeng is like...?”

“Ah.” His huu-man was curious—only natural. Gredar spread his legs. “T’meen look?”

“Is okay?”

“Very okay. Is good. Gredar want.” Yet T’meen still hesitated. Gredar touched his cheek. “Is okay,”

he repeated quietly, curling his tail over T’meen’s back. “Look.”

T’meen leaned up and rubbed his face against Gredar’s chin, then slid down Gredar’s body, creating

delicious pressure against Gredar’s kala, though probably unintentionally...or was it? His huu-man looked up

as he wrapped one small hand around Gredar’s kala and stroked, his stare unflinching and unreadable.

“Ahhh...good, good?”

“More?” T’meen continued stroking him.

With an effort, Gredar kept his voice steady. “No...look taeng. Touch taeng. Is more good.”

“Oh.” Probably didn’t occur to him, Gredar thought, not having one. He spread his legs a little more,

inviting T’meen to explore, cocking one to give full access. T’meen had only bare, blank skin where his

taeng would be if he had one. Gredar had some dark suspicions about how huu-man males fucked, but he

didn’t like to think about it. It would have to be painful—not to mention dirty. Not something he considered

T’meen would like at all, since he was so fastidious. He should really try to find out more about it. Martek

probably already had, the lusty old man.

T’meen had settled himself between Gredar’s legs, and his fine hair was a curtain across his face as he

looked down at Gredar’s body. He pressed one hand beneath Gredar’s kala, and whether by design or

accident, it was a most pleasurable sensation. Gredar’s kala began to stiffen within its sheath, and he willed it

to stay hidden—T’meen was still skittish.

Delicate fingers began to hesitantly circle the outer edge of his taeng, teasing and tickling, and a tiny

yowl left Gredar’s lips, despite his effort to stay controlled.

T’meen looked up “Okay?”

“Ye-ess. Very.”

T’meen’s lips curled up—a huu-man smile—as his fingers became more assured in their movements.

Gredar’s taeng was getting wet, eager for more, and when T’meen pushed his fingers inside, a purr rose deep

in Gredar’s belly. Ah, this was good, very good, the other hand still pressing over those sensitive nerves, his

balls tight and hard below them. He cocked his leg more, trying to subtly hint that more of the same would be

appreciated. T’meen’s smile grew wider, teeth white in the gloom. “Gredar like?”

Little wretch—he knew perfectly well. “Very much. More.”

“Ye-ess.”

Oh, yes. He didn’t know how T’meen know how to manipulate him so skilfully, but the waves of

pleasure radiating out from Gredar’s taeng were making him boneless as he surrendered to them. Every time

T’meen took his fingers away, Gredar nearly whined from the sensation of emptiness. He liked being filled.

He was so rarely fucked these day, his status demanding he be dominant, but he liked it both ways, given his

own preference.

He had an idea. “T’meen...make sex? Fuck Gredar?”

T’meen pulled his fingers out and sat back, arms folded and Gredar realised he’d made a terrible

error. He reached out to try and touch T’meen’s face but the huu-man was too far away. “Gredar sorry.

T’meen no....”

T’meen held up his hand to stop him. “No...is okay. Is....” He tapped his head. “Word...forget word.”

“Thinking?”

“Ye-ess. Thinking. Gredar want T’meen fuck? Truly want?”

“Ye-ess. Truly want. T’meen kala is elsart. T’meen is elsart.” T’meen whacked Gredar’s thigh in

reproach, but Gredar only grinned. “Truly. Kala is truly elsart.”

“Gredar say
silly
,” T’meen said firmly, but he was smiling—and his kala, which had drooped a little,

now perked up. Strange to see its moods all on display, without a concealing sheath. No wonder huu-man

loved their cloze so much. “Want this strike? Uh...want now?”

“Ye-ess. Please?” He added a little pleading yowl on the end of his words. It’d worked before—it was

worth trying.

T’meen was still susceptible, to Gredar’s profound and increasingly desperate gratitude, and got

himself into position, stroking his kala thoughtfully. He looked so slight, undersized, compared to Gredar’s

usual partners. T’meen was clearly thinking the same thing. “T’meen kala is small.” He sounded unsure.

“Kala good. You’ll see. Do. T’meen fuck Gredar now.”

T’meen smiled and muttered something, as he took himself in hand, and edged closer—his kala was

so big in relation to the rest of him. Was he abnormal for his race? Why did they need such large organs? Did

their females have fur so thick they had to penetrate past it...?

Oh.

Gredar stopped thinking then because T’meen was inside him, and it was...so very good. His kala,

thick and hot and so very, very smooth, fit Gredar’s taeng like it was meant to.

“Is good,” Gredar sighed, curling his tail around T’meen’s waist. “Very much.”

“Ye-ess.” T’meen grunted, pushing hard into Gredar, his face contorting with effort, his hands