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Archive-name: JourEntr/j555-136.txt
Archive-author: Elf Matheiu Sternberg
Archive-title: A Kiss From Aaden


P'nyssa's Journal 136 / 0555
           
     I walked out from the lagoon, following the river down to the sea
to where Dave had told me I'd find him.  Even in the dark it didn't take
long; he was sitting on a long-stable jumble of driftwood, his handsome
body silhouetted against the slight shimmer of ring, wall, and horizon.
He seemed to be completely frozen, staring up along sea, but then he
moved slightly, and his arm closest to me, his right arm, tossed
something towards the waves, returned to his lap, and he was still
again.

     As I walked towards him I realized why it is I find it so
impossible to write anything that doesn't have Ken somewhere in it.  The
way I walk is dictated by his design; the radically heavy muscles in my
heel and the near center-mount of my ankle give me far more stability on
sand than any other Pendorian race of biped; digitigrades run faster,
but I'm never bothered by a patch of loose sand, and I never lose my
balance and fall down.

     "Aaden?" I asked, quietly.

     He started; that's easy, with him, he startles easily.  "P'nyssa,"
he replied in kind, his voice low and tired.  "Hello."  Despite the
tone, the smile and the twinkle in his eye were still there.  Aaden
would probably be the last person to admit it, but there are qualities
to him that make him perfect for fatherhood.

     "I heard you and Ken had a blowup today," I said, stating my
intentions clearly and at the beginning.  "Want to talk about it?"

     "It doesn't matter," he said.  He threw his arm towards the ocean
again; I saw that he had a lapful of small stones that he had probably
collected from along the lagoon.  I wondered why he'd brought them.

     "Yes it matters," I answered.

     "No, it doesn't.  We haven't had sex in two months.  Prag, we
haven't slept together for at least a week.  When I try to discuss it
with him, he ignores me."  His face lost the building anger and faded
into a profound, tired sadness.  "He doesn't feel the way he used to."

     "Aaden," I said gently, jumping up onto the log and sitting beside
him, "You can't expect people to be constant, especially not Ken.  He's
working on a new code right now, and it isn't going well.  I've seen
this in him before, whenever he hits a major snag, and when he gets like
this, he isn't someone with you live with, he's someone you live around.
Ken never gets tired of people; it just takes a certain kind of person
to live with him, even more certain than those who just live in the
Castle."

     "As if anyone 'just lives' in Shardik castle.  In other words, live
with it."

     "I'm telling you to be patient.  Passion's not something you have
every day; it'll return, trust me.  I know; I've been living with him
for four centuries now.  He does care about you; he loves you.  But he
also knows that this is a relationship, a relationship with immortals,
no less.  He knows that there's a tomorrow.  And I don't think you want
him to take his stress out on you."

     The mephit smile returned, but there was something awkward about
it.  Finally he leaned over and rested his head on my shoulder.  "I'm
sorry, it's just so frustrating sometimes.  I've never been in a
relationship where I didn't feel like I wasn't in complete control.
Even in Rhysh, I was getting what I wanted."  He chuckled a little.
"MyFa, I'm a top."

     "Or just a pushy bottom," I replied.  I'm still not sure if I'm
using those words correctly.  "You know, Aaden, nobody has ever gone
after Ken the way you did.  I... I sort of came into this by accident.
But you, you came to me and said 'I want to spend an evening, a day, a
week with him.'  But you didn't mean Vatare'; I could see that.  You
wanted to know Ken.  You knew, didn't you?"

     "Knew what?" he asked.

     "That you and he would be perfect together."

     "Do you think so?  I don't.  I doubt any two people are perfect for
each other.  Maybe we were a good match."

     "Can I hear your side of the story?"

     "What story?  How I met him?"

     "Mm-hmm," I replied.

     "What?  The Hex fight?"  I nodded again.  "There really wasn't
anything special about it.  It was one of a dozen games played that day.
It was Ken's first, it was my third, I was tired, he won.  It wasn't
some monumental epic battle of wills, of good versus evil.  It was just
another friendly, consensual game."  He paused as a chuckle escaped his
throat.  "They'll probably make a movie about it."

     "They'll probably get Mariko Kakkoden to play me again."

     "Was that the Tindal girl in..."

     "Yes," I answered tiredly.  About the time that Terra and Pendor
had begun their first cultural and material exchanges, a small group of
Pendorians had made a distinctly sexual movie for Terran consumption.
No overt male homosexuality, lots of interspecies sex, two female
homosexual scenes.  Ken had laughed through almost all of it; voyeurism
was never his strong point.  But towards the end a young femTindal had
come on-camera with her fur dyed so that her markings matched mine.
Same white eyepits, same grey masking.  Even a light tinge of gold
across the back; someone had examined me very well before doing her fur.
Although I found it flattering, Ken was appalled by it.  He couldn't
legally stop it's release, but he did write a blistering diatribe in the
Daily News, and it's been the only film "I've" ever appeared in.

     "You know what's really the worst part about it?" Aaden asked,
interrupting my memory.  "I've never thought this would happen to me,
but there are times when I just get so... needful, I guess.  It isn't
just, well, horny."

     I laughed.  "I know exactly what you mean.  It's hard to make him
understand; I imagine it's hard to make anyone understand that it isn't
the sex we're after, it's them.  It's him."

     We were silent, watching the stars sail by slowly.  "Nyss," he
said, "If I tell you something very personal, can you handle it?"

     "Depends on the thing, doesn't it?"

     "I guess so.  Nyss, for the first time in my life, I wish I wasn't
gay."

     "Why?" I asked, surprised.

     "Because for the first time, there's really a female I care about,
who I love and I want to make love to."

     "SOL syndrome," I said smiling.

     "SOL?"

     "Sooner or Later syndrome."

     "Oh.  Never heard it as a TLA before."  He smiled.

     "TLA?" I asked, returning the confusion.

     "Three Letter Acronym.  And there's always ETLA."  I waited.
"Extended Three Letter Acronym."

     I rolled my eyes and smiled.  "So," I said, trying to get back to
the subject, "Who is this wonderful person."

     "You, you silly!" He said, pulling away from me again.  "P'nyssa
Traken, always fishing for compliments, and always blushing when you get
them."

     And I was blushing; the fur on my face was standing up, letting the
air under; my skin felt flushed and cold simultaneously.  Then every
muscle in my body froze as he slowly approached me, closing the distance
to me.  His muzzle touched my mouth, his tongue caressing mine as parts
of me reawoke and responded to his advance.

     It was more than I could ever have hoped for: A kiss from Aaden.
In the intimate closeness with him my senses opened up; I could feel
him, smell his clean fur and the sea air, and I could 'path him too,
feeling his emotions rolling and spinning within him.  And the one thing
I didn't find there was the one thing I didn't expect to find there-
lust.

     And then my emotions snowballed in on themselves, and I had to
break away or become lost in the miasma of sensation going on between
us.  I broke away.

     He looked at me, his eyes wet and worried.  "What's wrong?" he
asked.  But I could feel what he was really asked, "What did I do
wrong?"

     "Nothing," I replied quickly.  "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to do
that.  But I could 'feel' your feelings, and I was so busy analyzing
them that I was distracted.  I got annoyed at myself for being
distracted, which led to me being more distracted, more annoyed, more
distracted.  I had to stop."

     He nodded.  "I understand.  It must not be easy, being a telepath."

     "And I 'pathed your emotions without your permission; I'm sorry."

     "Nyss, I live with you.  Anybody who voluntarily lives with a
telepath had better be ready for the consequences."  He smiled.  "Come
on, let's go back to the Castle."

     I nodded and hopped off the log; he followed more casually.  "We
have so much in common," I said.  "Same lover, same kids, same devotion
to what we do.  By the way, you're no common gardener.  I looked up your
qualification, Aaden.  Molecular Xenobiologist does not add up to
'gardener.'"

     "Does this mean you want to start calling me Dr. Satpulov?" he
asked, querulously.

     "No," I said.  "Just saying you put yourself down too much."

     "Must be part of my charm," he said, laughing again.  It sounded so
good to hear him laugh.  I wanted to join him.

     "Aaden," I said, "Would you be upset if I told you that I wanted
you; that I treasure you and your company and the children we raised
together, and I'm really sorry that your... 'wiring,' I guess, keeps us
from expressing it in the one way the rest of the universe seems to put
a lot of emphasis with."

     He stopped walking, but just stood in the sand, looking at me.
"Rings, no," he said.  "I'm just happy with our relationship the way it
is.  I'm just glad you told me."

     "That kiss is where you told me everything I ever wanted to know,"
I said.  "I just wanted to hear it with your voice.  I wanted to hear
you say you love me.  I made you admit it to me, and along the way I've
replied to it automatically from Ken, and from you.  But Aaden, I need
to stand right here and look up at your face and tell you... I love
you."

     "I know," he said.  "I've already said it, but... I love you too,
P'nyssa.  And I love that lousy genegineer in his lousy laboratory, and
if he doesn't pay more attention to me I'm going to throw him down on
the bed and fuck his brains out."

     "Can I watch?" I asked, bemused.

     "Of course you can watch," he laughed.  "Come on, let's go home.
It's getting chilly."  We started walking again.

      "You know," he said, "this isn't the way this scene is supposed to
end."

     "How so?"

     "Well, if Ken were here, somebody would end up having sex."

     "We will," I replied.  "Just not with each other."

--
"A Kiss From Aaden"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., And Related Tales
are (c) 1989, 1990 Elf Matheiu Sternberg.  May be freely distributed by
cybernetic media; hardcopies are limited to single printings for
personal use.

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