Archive-name: JourEntr/j590-276.txt
Archive-author: Elf Matheiu Sternberg
Archive-title: Anger


     I heard the sounds of footsteps behind me, and from the rhythm and
the scent I knew Aaden had come into the house.  Usually that's good
news, but right now I was in such a foul mood that even his company was
an unwelcome intrusion.  He walked in to the workroom and, just as I
knew he would, he placed his hand upon my shoulder and said "Hello."

     "Hi," I said, not very cheerfully.

     "Are you okay?"  he asked.  "I heard about the fight this
afternoon.  I'm glad you weren't involved."

     "I'm still involved, Aaden.  It's my political butt on the line
here, you know.  They want economic concessions, and I'm wondering where
the Hell the expect to get them when we don't have an economy."

     "We have an economy," he said.  "In fact, we've got two of them.
You and I just happen to be in the upper of the two."

     "For reasons I could never understand," I growled, then glanced up
at him.  "I'm not really in the mood for company right now, lover.  If
one more thing happens today, I'm going to start taking my anger out on
something inappropriate, and I'd rather not do that."

     He nodded.  "I'll leave you alone, then."  He walked out of the
workroom, and I heard him leave our quarters entirely, wandering out
into the hallway of the Castle.  I turned back around and satisfied
myself with reading the reports left on my desk.  A few minutes later,
though, I heard him return, and it sounded as if he were walking back
towards me.

     Truth to tell, I wanted some company right now.  I just knew that I
wasn't in the right mood to be good company, and I didn't want him to
have to put up with one of my foul moods.  Still, if he was going to
volunteer to hang around me, that was his decision, not mine.

     I felt something solid tap me on the shoulder while a wooden,
hollow sound repeated in my ears.  I turned to look, and found Aaden
holding a shaft of bamboo, about 75cm long and maybe 4cm in diameter.
"What's this for?"  I asked?

     "You said you wanted to hit something," he said.  "Use me."

     The anger I felt subsided momentarily to make room for something
else.  "Aaden, that's not even funny."

     "I didn't say it was supposed to be.  I am not an inappropriate
target.  Go ahead, take the staff."

     I took it in my left hand, then shifted it over to my right.  "It's
pretty light.  We've got some teflon canes heavier than this."

     He nodded.  "That's why I brought it.  Go ahead, Ken.  Take it out,
on me.  I trust you, you won't hurt me."

     I looked into his deep brown eyes, which have entranced me every
day of my life since I met him.  I could not believe what he was telling
me to do, asking me to do.  "Aaden."

     "Come on," he hissed, and I felt us both shifting into play mode
slowly.  I had a headache and I was still pissed as Hell, but that
didn't stop me from knowing when the game had begun.

     "I can't..."  He took a swing at me.

     A clumsy swing, obviously pulled, but a swing nonetheless.  I
struck back with the staff and without finesse, hitting him on the thigh
with a less than solid strike.  He recoiled, and I grabbed him by the
wrist, wheeling around him with one hand and pinning his arm behind his
back.  "Don't move, Aaden."  I thought for a moment and a pair of
gravitics manacles came whizzing out of the bedroom.  I put one around
his left wrist and let it go, ordering it up into the air.  I did the
same with his right.  "Okay, you asked for it."  I walked around him
easily.  "First, those are coming off."  I reached onto my desk for a
pair of scissors and began cutting the baggy, loose-fitting cotton pants
off of his body.  He whimpered softly as I got close to his manhood, but
I didn't want him damaged.  Just hurting.

     The top, held shut with a wide belt about the waist, came off just
as easily.  I recognized the outfit as some form of stylized gi.  Naked,
his tail dropping to the floor, he looked much better.  "Fuck with me,
huh?"  I said, swinging the heavy club down and hitting his ass.

     "Yeah, I'll fuck with you," he snarled back.

     "Shut up," I said, hitting his thighs.  "You and your 'I know
what's best.'"  The bamboo came down across his ass again, landing with
a solid 'thwock.' It was an interesting sound, not quite a solid impact,
kind of hollow in a way.

     I began to work him over, slowly hitting each asscheek.  I could
feel the anger he had sought to arouse growing within me, slowly welling
up from somewhere deep below my heart and filling me.  "You pompous
bastard," I breathed at one point.  "I can't stand the way you
condescend to me."

     "Fuck you," he replied, snarling.  "Why should I put up your
constant posturing anyw... Ugh!" he replied as the staff hit him across
the chest.

     "Because," I said, "You're the one who's fucking tied up.  Now take
it, you pain in the ass."  I struck him five times swiftly on the backs
of his thighs, and soon he was dancing.  "Stand still, damnit.  I can't
torture you properly if you don't stand still!"

     "Maybe I don't wanna!"

     *CRACK*.  I struck him soundly across his upper chest, hard, and
the bamboo staff split at the ends.  "I'm sick of your shit," I growled.
I began to work him over viciously, almost carelessly.  Never once did I
hit him anywhere in a 'danger zone,' but his chest, back, butt, and
thighs were free game, and he began whimpering and cursing and finally
he was screaming in pain as the anger and the hatred I felt... for Terra
and for him, welled through me and expressed itself in the swiftly
swinging bamboo.  Pieces of it began flying across the room; blood
appeared in a white region of his fur.

     I beat him until he began trembling, until he was crying and
begging me to stop.  Finally, the crack in the bamboo worked it's way
into my hand and the staff lost all integrity, falling apart into a
thousand splinters and most of it dropping to the floor.

     He was still standing under his own power; his head lolled to one
side and he was breathing hard.  The bloodstain on his chest spread
slowly now.  I opened my hand and the small piece of bamboo that
remained fell to the carpeted floor with a thunk.  "Aaden."

     He picked his head up slowly and looked at me, a small smile on his
face.  I reached up and stroked his cheek.  Tears welled in my eyes to
look at his, to see the pain I had inflicted there.  "My Gods," I said,
"I'm sorry."

     "Let me go, first," he breathed.  I nodded, and the manacles
snapped open.  He dropped to his knees fast, and I reacted, grabbing him
about the waist and guiding him down to make sure he didn't hurt himself
on the way down.  "Aaden?"

     "I'm okay."  His voice sounded raspy; he did not sound okay.

     "Oh, Gods, Aaden," I said again, "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to do
that to you."

     His arms wrapped around my torso slowly, weakly.  "Yes you did," he
whispered softly.  "I love you."

     I held him close and sobbed against his chest, and he held me and
cried just the same.  We were quiet together for a few moments, and then
he said "Thank you."

     "'Thank you?'" I sobbed.  "How can you thank me for that?  That
was... that was horrible."

     "It was necessary," he said, his hand slowly stroking my hair.  I
pushed him away and slowly laid him on the ground, looking at the fur
where I had broken fell.  The bleeding seemed to have stopped.  A quick
scan between my extended perceptions and Dave's indicated that, other
than a little stress fatigue, Aaden was going to be alright.

     He grabbed my hand and held it.  "See?"  he said.  "I know your
limits, Ken.  I knew you couldn't hurt me in any permanent way."

     "Aaden, I wanted to kill you!  I was hating you!"

     "No," he said, shaking his head.  "No more than I wanted to die.
You do hate some things about me, just like there are some things about
you that I find insufferable.  You have a longer list for me than for
other people, Ken, because you know me better.  I have the same kind of
lists for you, too.  But it's because I love you that I stay with you.
I can't ever hate you, Ken."

     "But... why... this?"

     "Because I wanted you back.  When you're angry and you stew like
that, it's no fun living with you."  He reached and ran his hand over my
face.  "I know you don't want to harm me, Ken."

     I looked down at him.  "I know," I said.  "I love you, Aaden."  The
tears came back, just a little, as I lay my head on his chest.  "I do
feel better."

     His chest rumbled as he laughed.  "I bet you do."

     "It's good to get it out," I said.  "I'm just glad I didn't go
overboard and do more damage."

     "Why do you think I picked the bamboo?  As long as you didn't go
for my face or my kidneys, I knew that weapon couldn't do any damage."
He stroked my hair.  "Now, will you stop worrying about it?"

     I nodded.  "Promise me that if you ever need to, you'll do the same
thing to me?"

     "I promise."  He laughed.  "In some ways, though, the fact that I
was snarling and fighting back made me feel better too.  I'm glad I
didn't have to keep it inside."

     "Come on," I said, rising up.  "I'll get you some ginger ale."

     "I'd appreciate that."  I helped him to his feet and we wandered
into the kitchen.  Behind us, a small robot descended from the ceiling
and picked up the shattered splinters of bamboo.

--
"Anger"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., And Related Tales
are (c) 1989, 1992 Elf Matheiu Sternberg.  May be freely distributed by
cybernetic media; hardcopies are limited to single printings for
personal use.