“No, and that's final!"  With that, Negin Rudex Mal slammed the door in Victus's face.  It wasn't the first time he'd done something like that.  It wasn't even the fiftieth time.  Victus thought the man was taking a perverse pleasure in blatantly ignoring his advice. 

The Kenzine chuffed out a disgusted whoof of air, allowing himself a rare moment of unadulterated emotion before retreating behind his facade.  He regulated his breathing and slowed his heartbeat, wishing that the negin would occasionally listen to common sense. Locking himself inside his room with a business associate was far from wise.  Victus spared a glance at Lucas and was surprised to find the other man staring at him, ears erect and quivering with interest.  “What?"

Lucas grinned.  “I do believe this is the first time I've seen you get flummoxed." 

“I am not flummoxed," Victus replied, properly. “Neither am I disturbed, bothered, perplexed or annoyed." 

“Right," Lucas sounded dubious.  “And you're a horrible liar."

From any other man the comment might have drawn Victus's ire, but since it came from Lucas he felt comfortable ignoring it.  “We can hardly ensure the man's safety if he refuses to let us accompany him during these transactions."

Neither the Kenzine's voice nor his words betrayed strong emotion, but Lucas heard it anyway. 'Safety, schmafety," he scoffed.  “The world will not mourn if that man takes one to the head." When Victus' ears snapped down in disapproval, Lucas continued. “Oh, come on.  It's not like everyone in the whole fucking house doesn't think the same thing, and he knows it.  He gets off on being a bastard. Ow!"  He reached past the hated collar to rub the ear facing his teacher.

Discipline delivered, Victus put his hands behind his back in a scholarly pose.  “Regardless, you will give him the respect due his position.  Besides," he added, giving a pointed look at the slave collar ringing Lucas's neck, “you have a vested interest in keeping him alive.  Anything that kills him will kill you as well."

Lucas reached up to the collar, wanting to tug at it but knowing that doing so would be a very bad idea. He abandoned his impulse and let his hands fall from the hated device. “Yeah, well…" He had become so accustomed to the collar's weight that from time to time he was even able to forget he was wearing it.  “The hell with that," he said, disgustedly.  “Sometimes I think it would be worth it."

Victus looked at him for a moment.  “No," he said, finally. “I don't think it would be." 

Other than to say that he'd returned to the Kenzine monastery to consult with an elder, Victus had not seen fit to share the reason behind his sudden absence.  Lucas was left to wonder what had happened, but in the weeks since Victus' return, Lucas thought he'd seemed unsettled.  This was not, he thought, an entirely bad thing.  Whatever stick had been jammed up the man's ass seemed to be on the verge of falling out, and Lucas hoped he was around to see it when it finally did.  There was nothing in the world that he found more entertaining than to watch a pillar of dignity lose his composure and let loose in a spree of debaucherous passion. 

That Lucas was actually beginning to like the Protector came as something of a surprise.  After months of close association, Lucas realized that none of Victus' annoying traits, which Lucas had ascribed to pig-headed self-righteousness, were anything of the sort.  Yes, Victus kept his personality buttoned down, but that was less an affectation than it was a result of his strict sense of duty.  He was not merely playing the part of a mystical ninja; Victus Entrades was the real deal. 

The realization had made it easier to admit that he was wasting an amazing opportunity.  How many soldiers in his position - in any position, for that matter - were given the opportunity to train under one of the best warriors in the galaxy?  What Victus was teaching him was literally priceless.  No amount of money could buy him what he was being given for free, and he'd be a fool - had been a fool, he grudgingly admitted - to deny himself the chance. 

As his respect for Victus grew, so did his interest in what he was being taught.  What were once onerous commands to be defied turned into challenges to be overcome, and he threw himself into his training with a passion he'd not felt since he was a student in school, surpassing the expectations of his coaches and teachers. 

Contrary to what Lucas might have expected, once the Kenzine saw him catching up he did not accelerate his training to maintain the distance between them.  Once Lucas began to respond favorably, Victus adopted a more gentle touch, using encouragement instead of punishment.  Not that he eased up on his training; far from it.  Rare were the days when Lucas was not pushed past the point where he tossed his most recent meal into the bushes.  The sheer physical brutality might have made him give up, had Victus not been beside him every step of the way, matching him stride for painful stride and demonstrating that what he demanded was indeed possible.  The “teamwork" that Lucas had scoffed at only weeks earlier now seemed like a not-unpleasant fact of life. 

***

“You seem to have broken him quite nicely," Leland observed dryly, his finger swiping casually through the digital pages of his calendar.  He looked like he was barely paying attention to Victus, but Victus knew better than to underestimate him.  Leland always had an angle, always had a plan, and woe be to the person who stood in his way.   Victus was nobody's fool.  The Negins of Galise might control the purse strings of the most massive coffers in the known galaxy, but it was the majordomos who controlled the houses. 

Leland was in a position of power and had grand ambitions for the success of his house, but his decisions remained unbiased by his own ego.  This, more than anything, made him a man to watch, and Victus chose his words carefully. “I don't believe there is a man on Galise who could manipulate Lucas MacKenzie," he said, running his eyes over the bookshelves in Leland's office. “He is following me of his own free will."  Almost all of the books on Leland's shelves were neat as a pin.  The  few that were not in line with the others were only displaced by a few millimeters and were grouped together in three distinct spots.  Four volumes of “Elements of Botanical Science", six thinner volumes of “Gathered Teachings of Aristotle," and three thick copies of a series which bore no name on the spine.  Victus was curious what Leland had hidden behind the books, but not nearly curious enough to ask. Every man had his secrets and he was content to let Leland have his.

“Is there something going on between the two of you that I should know about?" Leland asked, bluntly.“

“No, there is not," Victus answered, immediately.  “What makes you think there would be?"

Leland looked mildly disapproving, staring at Victus' eyes with an intensity reserved for people who were less skilled at interrogation than they thought they were.  “The condition of your bed linens has the maids atwitter."

“Condition?" Victus was honestly perplexed.  “I don't understand."  He was careful to keep his nails trimmed short and blunted at the tips to avoid damaging house property, and he knew for a fact that Lucas did the same. 

Leland rolled his eyes.  “Stains, Victus. Stains.  In copious quantity."

Victus kept his response limited to rotating his ears forward by a degree or two.  In partial reward for his compliance, Victus had allowed Lucas up to an hour a day of free time to do with as he pleased.  While Victus chose to meditate in solitude, Lucas had often retreated to their bedroom to have, as he put it, 'personal time.' 

Victus would have had to be scent-blind not to have known what the other man was doing in their bedroom, but the fact that the bed linens had always been clean when he returned to their room had led Victus to believe that Lucas was disposing of his...production...in a sanitary manner.  Now he realized that Lucas had been soiling his bed sheets and changing them out before Victus returned.  “I apologize for the inconvenience," he said, without placing blame on either himself or his student. “I will see to it that whatever is occurring does not happen again."

“See to it that it doesn't," Leland said, emphasizing his point with a raised eyebrow.  “I couldn't care less what the two of you do in your off-duty time, but the negin isn't nearly as progressive as I am.  If word of this gets back to him, he's going to make life hell for you both.  He's not particularly kind to homosexuals."

“Lucas and I are not engaging in relations," Victus reiterated.  “Anything found on the sheets is the product of one of us."

“The quantity would suggest otherwise," Leland observed.  “I've seen the...evidence."

Victus nodded his head. “Canine varii are far more productive than the average sapiens male," he explained.   “I will see to it that it does not happen again."

Leland was far from satisfied by the response, but he knew that there was nothing to be gained by repeating himself.  “You are free until eighteen," he said, dismissing the issue with a wave.  “But be aware that there has been a change in dinner plans…"

***

Ten minutes later Victus walked back to his shared bedroom, wondering how a man with as much to do as Leland could speak at such length about the endless minutiae of social events.  He pulled out his comm and sent a text message to Lucas warning of his arrival.  “I am on my way back to the room," he sent. “Please clothe yourself."

He unlocked their door and walked into the room to find Lucas tying the cord holding his pants up.  “You're back early," the canine said, as he rolled his sheets into a ball and prepared to throw them down the laundry chute.

Victus relieved Lucas of the wadded bedclothes. “That's because I didn't get to meditate today," he said, holding the bundle in front of him.  Victus resisted the urge to flinch.  He couldn't help but feel cool patches in the fabric where they'd been soaked through with Lucas's fluids.  He held the bundle up. “The maids have been complaining that you're soiling the sheets beyond what is reasonable," he said, “and they would appreciate it if you would find someplace else to…" he trailed off, unable to find a word he was comfortable with.  He felt oddly tongue-tied, confused why a normal bodily function should cause him such consternation.  The smells coming out of the wadded sheets were rich with pheromones, which did nothing to improve his condition.

“Ejaculate?" Lucas offered, helpfully.  “Come?  Spooge?  Blow my load?  Shoot my wad?"

Victus gave him a sober look. “I'm serious, Lucas.  Stop it before you get us both in trouble."

“I'll explode if I don't jerk off at least twice a day!" Lucas protested, sounding horrified at the prospect.

“I'm not asking you to stop masturbating," Victus said, patiently.  He suddenly felt like the parent of a pubescent boy, “I'm only asking you to find somewhere else to do it that won't leave anything behind for the cleaning staff to find. You could just use a towel, you know."

“I do use a towel!" Lucas protested.  I cover myself with it so I don't have to take a shower afterwards. What's on the sheets is just overspray."

Victus raised one eyebrow. “Really?"  At Lucas's self-satisfied smile, the Kenzine's other eyebrow rose to join it.  “I can not think of an appropriate response to that."

“What do you do?"  Lucas asked, sounding curious.

“Whenever I feel it necessary to release some pent-up energy, I perform tantric meditation."

Lucas rolled his eyes.  “Sounds way more fun than doing it my way," he said, dubiously.

“You might be surprised," Victus said, then motioned with the bundle he was still holding.   Abandoning that train of thought, he returned to the problem at hand.  “We can rinse this out in the bathroom," he suggested, moving towards the lavatory. “I think if we rinse them in the sink, we can probably hang them over the shower stall to dry."

Seeing that Victus was prepared to do the work himself, Lucas sprang into action. “I'll get it, buddy," he said, gently pulling the bundle from Victus' hands.  “Thanks."

Victus was pleased.  In the past, he would have wagered that Lucas would watch as someone else cleaned up his mess.  Today, he took enough pride in himself to do the job himself. 

Lucas started running water in the lavatory's small sink, but once he unfurled the sheet and saw what it contained he had to admit that there was no way the vanity faucet was going to get the job done.  “Holy shhhhhhimoles," he turned the curse into something milder to escape a painful ear flick.  “This is worse than I thought."  He looked at Victus and grinned happily.  “What can I say?  It was a good one!" He turned off the faucet with a flourish and headed for the shower stall.  

“You might as well take a shower while you're in there," Victus said, as he pushed a loose corner of the sheet into the stall and closed the door.  “You smell a little too much like you've been enjoying yourself." 

As if anyone here could tell," he said, his voice distracted, but raised to be heard over the noise of the spray.  “You're the only one on the estate who'd ever notice."

“Pearli would notice," Victus said.  “She'd probably appreciate thinking that she's your only source of release." He heard the snarky tone in his voice, and realized that he was feeling more than a little jealous of the attention Lucas was showing the young farmgirl.  He knew it wasn't appropriate, but… 'No 'but'," he told himself, sternly. “No excuses.  And."  He knew it wasn't appropriate, and he resolved to take extra time during his next meditation session to contemplate his feelings. 

The bark of annoyance that Lucas gave him was not what he expected.  “That ain't gonna happen," Lucas said, peevishly.  “I tried getting with her the night you left, but I couldn't stop thinking about what you said.  That she might be informing on us."  Deciding that the sheets were clean enough, he handed Victus the sodden mass and shut the stall door to finish cleaning himself.  “Kinda tough to get it up when you're wondering where your partner hid the microphone."

Victus limited his response to a discrete, “Mmm…"  In spite of every promise he'd made to himself on the way back from the monastery, he still had not revealed the depth of his feelings to Lucas.  It was probably for the best, he told himself.  Things were going so well between them that it would be foolish to jeopardize their good working relationship with his childish feelings.  No, he decided.  He would let things wind down quietly on their own.

“You know," Lucas ventured, smiling teasingly at Victus through the hazy shower door, “if you don't want me squirting all over the place, you could just let me stick my dick up your butt."

Victus wished his eyes hadn't bugged out in such an undignified manner, but he knew they did.  And gods be damned if he didn't say the exact opposite of what he'd ached to say for the past few weeks. “What makes you think that would be an acceptable solution?"

Though he'd really meant the suggestion to be light-hearted, Lucas suddenly found himself wanting to beat his head against the wall in frustration.  “Because everyone else does it!"  He scrubbed his headfur as he counted off reasons.  “It wouldn't hurt you, it solves the mess issue, and it would probably feel better to me than jamming my cock in a sock, and I'd return the favor.   And if you've got to be analytical about it, I could probably get my rocks off faster, leaving more time to...meditate...or something," he finished, lamely. 

Seeing the shocked expression on Victus' face, Lucas felt disgust at himself.  He shook his head and held his hands up to stop his teacher's inevitable protest.  “Just forget it," he said, lamely. “I'm sorry I brought it up."  He wasn't as embarrassed by his half-hearted proposal, which seemed completely rational to him, as he was saddened that a life spent among sapiens had driven Victus so far away from the cultural norms of his own people.  He gave his fur a quick rinse, shook off, and ran a towel over his body. 

Quick thinking and lightning-fast reflexes did not arise to help Victus today, and he was thankful that it was taking Lucas a few minutes to finish cleaning himself up.  He was acutely aware that he was witnessing his window of opportunity slam shut, and the only witty rejoinder he could come up with was a stammered, “Uhhh…"  When Lucas emerged from the shower and looked at him expectantly, he tried his best to form his thoughts into something rational that the other man might understand.  “Bear with me here," he pleaded, feeling like a fish out of water. “I'm not used to this."

“Used  to what?" Lucas asked, as he folded a corner of the towel and jammed it into his left ear.

“I've been thinking about some of the things you've said, and they're not all without merit."

Hoping that he might have misread the situation, Lucas felt a grin sneak onto his face. “And by,   'some things,' you mean...buttsex?"  One eyebrow twitched up hopefully.

“No," Victus said, finding himself smiling slightly at the look of hope on Lucas' face, “not exactly."  Before Lucas' ears could droop very far, he added, “I'm not quite certain how to say this."

Victus was looking so at a loss for words that Lucas couldn't help but feel sorry for him.  He dropped any hint of levity and was, for once, totally serious. “You said we've got some time until dinner, right?"  Victus nodded affirmation and backed out of the bathroom so Lucas could get out and get dressed.  “Let's take a walk around the grounds for a while," Lucas suggested.  “Surely there must be something out there that needs to be inspected."  

***

Outside the house and away from any obvious listening devices, Victus found himself less hesitant to discuss his feelings.  He had to admit that it was also helpful not to be crammed in a tiny room a meter away from the naked object of his affections while trying to think rationally. The two men slowly walked the perimeter of the house lawn, as far away from others as they could be without triggering the warning devices embedded in Lucas's collar.  The air between them would normally have been filled with words, Victus talking about the importance of some routine task or the medicinal qualities of some herb in the house garden, or Lucas telling funny stories or accounts of his time in the military.  Today though, the air was still.  Lucas knew that whatever Victus had to say could not be rushed.  Lucas didn't often need to be, but he could be patient when the occasion called for it. 

It took almost a quarter-hour, but Victus finally spoke. "I am pleased with the speed of your progress," he said, crouching down to fluff some nonexistent imperfection out of the lawn. 

“I'm pleased to be progressing," Lucas said, with a smile. "But that's not what you really want to talk about, is it?" He reached a hand out to the man he had, at some point in the recent past, begun to think of as a friend.  “Whatever it is, Vic, it's okay." 

Victus flinched, unconsciously withdrawing from the touch before he realized what was happening. He caught himself before he'd moved more than a few millimeters, but not before Lucas had felt the tension in him. "It IS okay, isn't it?" Lucas asked, wanting to strengthen the connection between them.  "I like what's been happening here and I don't want it to change."

"I think that's probably what's worrying me," Victus said, after a moment. Even when he'd stiffened, Lucas hadn't pulled away.  The man appeared committed to helping, and his honest concern touched Victus. "I'm pleased-" He stopped himself and tried again, consciously dropping as much formality from his speech as he could. "I like what's going on here too, and I'm concerned we'll get thrown off-track if you know what's going on inside my head."

Lucas looked straight into the Kenzine's startlingly golden eyes. "Never gonna happen, buddy," he promised. "Do you trust me?"

Surprisingly, the answer came easily. "Of course."

Lucas smiled and shrugged. "Then take your trust out for a little test drive.  Tell me something and see what happens. If the world doesn't stop spinning, maybe you can tell me a little more." When Victus still seemed stuck, Lucas suggested, "Tell me about where you went the other day." He didn't need to be more specific. Since Lucas's arrival, there had been only one time that the two men weren't within shouting distance of each other. 

"That is...reasonable," Victus conceded, and took a deep breath. "I went back to the monastery to consult with my mentor. My father," he clarified, in case Lucas hadn't made the connection.

Lucas realized that Victus had paused for a response, perhaps subconsciously following Lucas's advice and doling out information in the smallest possible chunks, examining his reaction for acceptance. Although he wanted to tell Victus to pick up the pace and share something interesting, Lucas could not breach the contract that he himself had drawn up. He nodded encouragingly. "Go on. What did you talk about?"

As promised, his world was still spinning after the small admission, so Victus chanced something more. "You." When Lucas didn't look overly shocked, he added, "We discussed the difficulties you and I were having, and how I might overcome them."

Lucas nodded, appreciating the fact that Victus hadn't so much as intimated that their problems were all the student's fault. He appeared to be taking an equal share of the responsibility for their past contest of wills.  "What did you determine?"

"My father...Master Dagen," he clarified, testing the agreement by sharing a bit of his personal world, "said that I was in love with you, and that was causing the conflict." Judging by the expression that had come across Lucas' face, he might have over-shared.

The look of stunned amazement quickly turned into a shy smile."Really?" Lucas asked, as he reached a hand up to rub the spot at the back of his neck that had suddenly become warm. "I'm... honored, Vic."

The words were said with such a lack of condemnation that it buoyed Victus' spirits. Perhaps this will be alright after all, he thought. "I did not say that I agreed with him," he said, returning to his formal tone for just long enough to nettle Lucas, "but I think he's probably right."

"Probably right?" Lucas said, exaggerating his hurt. "Probably?"

Victus nodded. "I've been wrong before." He thought about what he'd just said, then added, "Occasionally."  The smile on Lucas' face told Victus that he was on safe ground. “So what do you think?" he asked.

Lucas didn't immediately answer.  When he saw the skillfully-hidden distress the delay was causing Victus, he coughed uncomfortably. “What do I think..."  He didn't want to hurt Victus' feelings, but he couldn't see any way around it.  “I think it's awful sweet, you know?  But…" he paused again, thankful that Victus was such a patient man.  

All Lucas had wanted was a convenient source of occasional, no-strings-attached sexual release. Victus had, almost insultingly, expressed no interest in having sex with him, but had just suggested the possibility of a deeper relationship.  Lucas had never yearned for an intimate relationship with another man, but then again, had he ever pined away after a female?   Now that he thought about it...no, he hadn't.  He'd had more than his share of encounters with members of both genders, but growing up as a half-breed child with full-blooded brothers who delighted in emotional torture had left him with scars that barely had scabbed over, much less had time to heal.  

At his core, he knew that nobody in his own appearance-based culture was ever going to find him attractive, and he'd reconciled himself to never settling down with any one person.  His relationships were loose and friendly, and had all been short-term.  But someone - someone he respected and, yes, he had to admit, admired - was apparently offering him a role in what might turn into a more involved relationship.  

Now that the possibility was on the table, he didn't know what to do with it.  Lucas wasn't so closed-minded that the thought of partnering with another man was repulsive to him.  It was merely different, and things that were different were often just as good as those which were traditional, if not better.  So a relationship with another male wasn't out of the question for him.  True, he loved kids and would have liked to have a half-dozen of his own, but the thought of passing down his mixed-up genetics to children made procreation distasteful to him.  That left adoption; and two men could adopt as well as a man and a woman could, so that was no issue.

But...with Victus?  The man was his teacher, his boss, and his roommate, and could at times be infuriatingly...Kenzine.  And Lucas knew for a fact that he'd never had a serious relationship with anyone.  He was certain that Victus was going to make an impressive number of bumbling errors during his first relationship, and getting along with him might be an interesting challenge.

Their path led them too close to the boundary line, and the resulting warning tingle from his discipline collar brought Lucas crashing back down to earth.  For a few moments, at least, he'd actually forgotten that he was an indentured servant, and that Victus was an itinerant Protector who never stayed on one planet for more than a few years.  His time on Galise was nearly up, so what point would there be in pursuing anything long-term?  The man didn't have time to raise a gerbil, much less foster a relationship.

Cold reality settled into his brain, and Lucas sighed.  “I really do like you, Vic," he said, breaking the silence, “and I'm honored that you feel that way.  And the thought of doing that with another guy?" He shrugged. “I've never really had to think about it, but It doesn't weird me out, so…" he looked over to Victus, but didn't see any of the behavioral markers that, on any other person, would have clued him in to their inner workings.  “You were thinking about being more than sex friends, right?"

Wasn't it obvious? Victus wondered.  Surely even the most blind of people could see how nervous he was inside. But it was true that some people needed verbal confirmation of the obvious. “Yes," he said, still not able to do more than sneak looks at his student.  Never in his life had he felt this nervous. 

Lucas gave him a sad smile and ran a claw under his collar. “That's gonna be tough, with this thing around my neck.  And you're leaving in a few months anyway," he said.  "What's the point in starting something you can't finish?"

Victus' face fell for a moment before his face returned to its usual, stonily indifferent expression. “As powerful as the negins are, they are not the Kenzine council.  I am fairly confident that the council could find a way to have the laws permitting discipline collars revoked."  Victus, realizing what he'd just said, suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Not just for you, but for everyone.  

“And now that I say that, I feel like a fool." He slowly shook his head.  “I apologize, Lucas," he said, sounding embarrassed.  “I should have been working to make slave collars illegal since I learned of their existence.  I have known what was right, but I have chosen to do what was easy." 

“The council just says a word and these things just drop off?" Lucas asked, sounding skeptical.

'No, of course not. It would probably take a fair amount of time to push something like that through, but it needs to be done."

“What happens if I say no?" Lucas asked, quietly.  “Will you still go through all that?" He looked at Victus, then leaned back at the other man's expression of shock. 

Victus couldn't keep his ears from wilting.  It's just a question, he told himself, an honest question which deserves an answer. Lucas had not come out and said that Victus would lose interest in helping someone who denied his affection, but the implication was impossible to ignore.  “Yes," he said, trying not to look hurt.  “Even if you don't have any interest in me, slave collars are burdens on our world that need to be eliminated."

The look on Vic's face before he'd thrown up the wall had convinced Lucas.  The man was disappointed that his motives were suspect, and felt hurt that Lucas could have thought so little of his word. “I'm sorry," Lucas said, hoping he hadn't burned a bridge between them.  “I didn't think the question through."  Sometimes it shocked him how deeply the Kenzine's emotions ran, even though they rarely appeared on his face.

Victus nodded and reminded himself that while he had grown up surrounded by logical people who behaved rationally, Lucas had been brought up in an environment which operated on manipulation and quid pro quo.  Misunderstandings would be common occurrences between them.  “I can't solve every problem," he said, quietly, “but this is one that I feel needs to be fixed."

Lucas nodded his head once in acceptance, but then Victus saw a fire ignite behind Lucas's eyes.  “What about the young kids?" he asked, “The ones the negin's been raping? Can you do something about them, too?"

Victus thought for a moment, reminded himself that Lucas would require more politic handling than would a fellow Kenzine, and took a deep breath before answering.  “That one's going to be harder.  Slave collars are a pretty monodimensional issue that we can boil down to human rights.  There are more significant cultural issues which are standing in the way of eliminating the youth sex trade."

“But you'll do it," Lucas pushed,  “before you work on getting collars banned?"

“No," Victus said, bluntly.  The expression on Lucas' face made him regret his blunt response.  “I mean, yes, but not the way you're talking about."  He sighed in frustration. “The council has been working at its best speed to ban young sex workers across the galaxy, and I, along with hundreds of other Kenzine, have already put my weight behind that issue.  There is nothing more I can do on that particular front, but this," he said pointing to the lethal, jeweled collar around Lucas' neck, “is a fight I can help win."

Grudgingly, Lucas appeared to accept the reasoning. “You can't fight everything, I guess."

“No," Victus agreed, “you cannot.  There is so much wrong with the world that if you fought every offense at once, you'd be stretched so thin you'd win nothing.  If you concentrate your energy on a few targeted points, you stand a much better chance of making a dent in the problem."

They were walking again, talking comfortably like they always did.  Lucas liked that about Victus - how easy he was to talk to, and how simple it was just to drop into conversation with him.   Maybe that said something…  “We still haven't talked about your leaving," he reminded.

“Can we cover that later?" Victus said, sounding weary.  He already felt as if he'd fought a dragon.

“Well...no," Lucas said, “I'd like to get it out of the way."

Victus, thinking that it was unfortunate to ruin a day with such pleasant weather with such a thorny discussion, conceded with a nod. “As you wish."

After walking a few dozen more steps in silence, Lucas grew impatient. “Well?"  When Victus did nothing more than raise his eyebrow in query, Lucas added, “You're the one who's leaving, so let's talk about what you plan on doing about that!"  He caught himself, wondering why he felt so strongly about Victus being reassigned now, when only an hour earlier he hardly had an opinion about it.

“There are a number of things that might happen," Victus said, uncertainly.  “The most certain of which would be to resign my position and stay here of my own free will."

“The negin has no need of two bodyguards, so one of us would have to go," Lucas said, bluntly.  “Next option."

“I could petition to have my contract extended," the Kenzine suggested. “That's not unheard of.'

“Same problem," Lucas pointed out.  “Why pay all the money for you when he's already paid for me in full?  Next?"

Victus sounded less certain of himself now. “The abbot sometimes extends charity in cases where he feels it's appropriate, so don't shut that idea completely out.  If the negin can get the cheese for free, especially if he feels like he's cheating someone else out of it, you can bet he'll jump at the chance.  I could make a good case that his staff needs additional training while I ease you into my position."

Lucas thought about what Victus said and decided that it made good sense.  “It's possible.   What else you got?"

There was another way, one which was perhaps most certain of all, but Victus was almost positive that Lucas would not agree to it.  “There are thousands of Kenzine across the galaxy," he said, trying his best to be diplomatic. “If I asked them for help, all would come to the call.  And if all of them donated a few credits-"  

“Nope," Lucas cut him off.  “Not gonna happen.  Next?"

Victus felt the corners of his mouth quirk downward in annoyance that he'd been so bluntly shut down.  No matter that the lupine might have anticipated Lucas's reaction, he could still have acted as if he appreciated the offer.  The force of the other man's rejection robbed him of what little enthusiasm he had managed to muster for the subject. “I'm sure we can think of something," he said, wanting to steer the conversation away from the topic.  “We've thought of a few good possibilities after only a few minutes, and we'll think of others as we go.

Victus checked his chron, feeling relieved when he saw that there wasn't time to continue their conversation. “It's already seventeen, so we need to return to the room and get dressed for dinner.  The negin has invited others to dine with him tonight, so we will be inspecting the kitchen and the security logs in advance of their arrival."

***

Six hours later, both men felt bone-tired.   The negin's little dinner soirée had gone like most of them lately.  In direct contradiction to established protocol, the guests had brought bottles of wine which they insisted that all share; so each had to be tested and tasted before Victus could clear it for consumption.  The negin fomented several heated arguments during dinner, then changed his mind about the dessert course at the last possible instant, making the kitchen staff scramble madly to accommodate him.  Nobody left the main house in a good mood, but leave they eventually did. 

Victus breathed a quiet sigh of relief when their bedroom door clicked shut behind them.  “Peace at last," he whispered, unwilling to shatter the tranquility.

“I know," Lucas said, keeping his own voice uncommonly low in sympathy.  “I can't wait for a shower and a bed." He rustled his claws through his headfur in an attempt to muster what little energy he could to finish out the day's activities.  No matter how exhausted they were at the end of the day, Victus insisted that they shower before getting into their respective beds.  It was practical, he said.  Good for the skin, kept the linens clean between washings, and most of all, no matter how crazy your fur might look in the morning, at least you wouldn't smell. “You want to go first?" Lucas offered.  He was eager to crawl into bed, but he thought it best to ask since Victus often took a few minutes to call one of his friends on the comm while Lucas scrubbed himself.  

“Yes, please," Victus said, shamelessly taking advantage of his position as Sensei to grab the first shower spot. “I am certain Master Dagen will understand if we skip a night's conversation."

Once Victus had stepped into the shower, Lucas followed him into the bathroom.  From the corner of his eye, he watched the Kenzine wash himself as he brushed his teeth.  Despite his acting like a little old lady from time to time, Victus was typical of most varii in that he wasn't particularly modest. What differed was that he truly didn't seem to care about physical appearance.  

Lucas had aggressively participated in every sport available to him, so he was no stranger to a locker room shower.  In that environment, guys all acted pretty much the same way.  The difference was that, between varii at least, there was a competitive undercurrent that was as ubiquitous as body soap and deodorant. Sapiens guys walked in and out of the gang shower with such an utter lack of interest in varius physique that they might as well have been lathering up next to a feral cow.  They didn't mind if varii watched them, and they didn't mind watching right back.  Two inches or ten inches, it honestly didn't matter to them.  

For varii, the locker room experience was markedly different.  It was a place where everything you did, no matter how small, was judged and graded by your peers.  From the instant you stripped off your shirt, everyone in the room knew from your smell, color and conformation what your social status was supposed to be, and whether you were someone worth knowing.  It wasn't a particularly kind system, but it was one that provided an in-built social structure.  There were no lingering questions among varii - you knew who you were and where you belonged.  All his life, Lucas had struggled to surpass the expectations of his peers, to show them that a lowly little half-breed with thick joints and bad markings could be every bit as competent and worthy as the best of them.

When Lucas had first commented on Victus' lack of judgement, the Kenzine's response had been to question whether his behavior made Lucas feel uncomfortable.  When Lucas had said “no," Victus had simply said, “good," and gone on with his behavior.  At the time, Lucas had dismissed it as just another Kenzine lesson - to get over himself - but he'd since come to realize that to Victus, physical bodies honestly didn't matter. Now that the Kenzine had expressed interest, Lucas realized how just much that idiosyncrasy worked in his favor.  Victus was probably the only varius in existence who didn't judge him on his appearance, and didn't care whether he looked like a full-blooded officer with perfect conformation or a homely battle varius. 

The irony of the situation, Lucas thought, as he watched the Kenzine push water out of his fur, was that Victus was every bit as attractive as he himself was not.  As far as Lucas could tell, Vic was textbook perfect.  He had the perfect colors, all in the correct spots; the ideal shape; the perfect symmetry that Lucas could never achieve.  He had a full, swishy tail, a perfectly-shaped white blaze on his perfectly-shaped chest, perfectly-shaped joints…  The perfect body had been given to a man who couldn't appreciate it. 

Victus pushed his way out of the shower. “Next."  Lucas took his place, and both men tried to act as if Lucas hadn't been staring.  

Victus took a few minutes with the dryer to blow the water out of his fur, and had finished cleaning his teeth shortly before Lucas came out of the shower.  He left the bathroom without a word, leaving the door slightly ajar in his absence.  For a moment Lucas resented the lack of privacy, then realized that he didn't care.  He was too tired to masturbate anyway, so what did it matter?   He finished quickly and dried off, giving himself a bit more fluff with the dryer than Victus had.  He absolutely hated waking up in a tangle of damp sheets.

When he stepped into the bedroom he stopped in confusion. That Victus had crawled into bed was unsurprising.  What was surprising was the fact that he had chosen to crawl into Lucas' rather than his own sleeping mat.  The Kenzine didn't move when Lucas approached, but he did ask, in unconscious echo of Lucas's own words earlier in the day, “Is this okay?"

Though Lucas hadn't made up his mind whether he was on board with the whole homosexual relationship thing, at that moment he was too tired to think about it.  “Whatever," he mumbled, as he fell into the bed next to his friend. “Just keep your hands to yourself," he said, gently ribbing Victus even though he was fighting to stay awake. “I'm exhausted."