The Aftermath 16

Asif wakes up accompanied. He must deal with what and who he did the night before. An accord is reached and the occurrence repeated. While sex occurs, there is no sex scene as such.

•••

Last night was a blur of dicks and butts. His throat was sore. Who had he tried to deepthroat? He hated the feeling of waking up after a night of hard work. The soreness from rough penetration lingered. Evidence of sex when there was no arousal to blunt the shame was not something Asif relished.

Suddenly Asif realized he was not alone in this bed. Nor was it his bed. Jolted into wakefulness by that realization, Asif sat up and peered over at his anonymous bedmate. A smooth, unmarred expanse of skin paler than any you'd be able to readily find on his home planet but here in the City this shade barely counted as pale. With one finger Asif stroked the bedmate's arm. If he was in bed with someone this young and beautiful, he was in bed with a colleague. You wanted to be careful. No need to startled someone out of sleep and into a nightmare of their past. Asif nearly leapt out of his own skin when the person spoke.

"I see you're awake now," the bedmate said n a voice thick with something. Asif hoped it wasn't the flu or worse a cold. It sounded like they'd been awake for a while. Asif usually woke first. He was a light sleeper.

"Yeah," Asif said. His head spun. "How much did we drink?"

"You drank half a bottle of something glittery and vile tasting," the bedmate said before turning over and looking at Asif. He couldn't hide his surprise and didn't try. He was going to catch that expression no matter what, but if Asif could stop at surprise and deal with the revulsion later when he wasn't being watched, that would be for the best. Calix was going to be so disgusted. He'd probably try to make Asif do extra testing.

"Good morning, Simon."

"Good morning yourself," Simon said nastily. Asif wondered what he'd done last night to piss Simon off. Usually he was impervious to judgment. Had Asif spelled it out when rejecting him? It was hard to do damage control when he didn't know what he'd done or what Simon remembered.

"What happened last night?" Asif asked.

"You took Hank in the ass," Simon said with malice.

"No, not Hank." But as soon as Simon said that passively persistent bastard's name, Asif remembered. Hank had been after his ass for ages. Last night he succeeded. No wonder he was sore. Asif was not used to penile enhancements. He liked them even less after Hank had surprised him with that augmentation. At least William's cybercock was within the bounds of reason. Hank's expanded and vibrated. He'd been bouncing on that monster with carefree abandon. As if he couldn't get enough of Hank up his ass. It felt so good, Asif remembered bile rising in his throat, that he didn't want it to end.

"I'm afraid so," Simon said. He didn't look sorry.

"Was he happy?" Asif asked to distract himself from the memories. Hank's huge hands on his hips held him down on the dick. Asif remembered squealing in delight. The whole point of modeling for John was to avoid giving up his ass to Hank. Was it his imagination or did he remember Hank explaining his cybercock in great detail, including new updates.

"Extremely."

"How bad was it? His dick isn't normal, how did I fake that orgasm?" Asif asked. It had been in front of a lot of his least favorite regulars. He remembered that much. Hank had his friends with him. There was Big Pharmer. Like Hank, his penis had been enhanced by technology. Already thick, the improvements gave Big Pharmer the ability to grow thicker in a variety of pulse patterns.

"Orgasms," Simon corrected him. There was no pity in his cruel smile.

"What?"

"You came a lot," Simon said. His smile grew into a wicked grin. "Even I lost count."

"Oh god, no." Now he could remember. Hank had slowly worked him open as he begged Hank to just fuck him already. But Hank took perverse pleasure in reminding Asif of all the excuses he'd made to avoid just this situation. How delicate Asif was there, how he rarely used it, that he endured anal rather than enjoying it. That if Hank liked him so much then he wouldn't want Asif to do it. All of that while Hank stretched and stroked Asif's lightly used hole. It was so different compared to his other hole. It felt good. Asif almost didn't believe his own memories. Nothing could feel that good. Could it?

"You didn't seem to be faking it."

Asif rounded on Simon. "How would you know what my actual orgasm looks like?"

Simon rolled his eyes and sighed. "You squirted. From the reaction of the clientele, it's not one of your usual party tricks."

"So I pissed all over myself."

"Not quite."

"Tell me."

Simon looked truly hesitant. "Well..."

"Come on, Simon," Asif said.

"Paduchi was there. He tasted it to check."

"Great, now I'm going to have to learn to do that on command." His first time coming like that and he couldn't remember it clearly. It was a blur of lights, laughter, and so much pleasure. Idly, he wondered if Hank had added any new enhancements since the last time. The vibrations had been bad enough. Surely he was imagining the pulses. Anal had never felt that good.

"Well, no..."

"What," Asif demanded. How could this get any worse?

"The consensus was that it was Hank's location that did it," Simon said.

"Squirting for anal is still a lot of squirting." Horrible nasty gendered word, but what else could he call it?

"How often do you do double penetration?" Simon asked with sudden interest.

"Simon, you tell me everything that happened right now," Asif said, moving towards Simon. He moved backwards without thought. Simon's retreat before Asif was gratifying.

"Only if you come straight to me next time you're feeling like that," Simon said when he was backed into the corner between the headboard and the wall. "You can't haggle when you're horny."

Asif froze. He hadn't considered that. How much had he done for how little. Simon tried to distract him by opening his legs. Asif ignored the invitation. He knew without looking that he didn't want to see the mess. Especially as if it felt like his was in worse shape.

"I don't know what your prices were, but after I showed up I made sure they paid the proper rates." Simon looked down. When Simon looked up through his thick dark lashes his eyes were bright. "I know you don't think much of me, but--"

Asif was ready to lie and assure Simon it was not the case. But Simon had already turned away and left the bed. He went to the dresser. When he came back, Asif saw the credit sticks.

"This is your share," Simon said. Asif was shocked. He'd never seen that color on a credit stick before. There were five of them. One purple, three orange, and one goldenrod. The warm colors were familiar. "Hank filled up the violet and then some."

"Thank you," Asif said without thinking. The way Simon lit up before he hid his emotions behind an agreeable mask made Asif feel terrible. He wasn't trying to be cruel. Calix had no problem being cruel, especially to Simon, especially behind his back. He hadn't known that Simon had a crush on him but it didn't surprise him. "I haven't been nice to you and you took care of me."

This time Asif caught surprise and a little bit of pleasure before Simon smoothed away the expression. It wasn't unpleasant. Simon smiled softy before looking back at Asif. "It's okay, I got paid too."

"How long do we have the room for?" Asif asked. He hoped they had a few more hours. The bed was nice even if the room was spartan. The highlight was the deep bathtub. Asif wanted to experience that. He remembered pouting and begging until Hank relented and paid for it. The clerk at the front desk couldn't stop staring at Asif. There was good reason. Hank had decorated him in the finest the street vendors' had to offer from jewelry to a silk robe.

"Almost a week," Simon said. Asif stared at him. "What? Hank was pleased. Making you beg was one thing, he got to be the first to make you of all us squirt. He forgave your debts too."

Asif sighed. Maybe it had been a good thing.

"What got you in this headspace?" Simon asked.

"Why?"

"I want to try it, at least twice," Simon said. "You were gagging for it the whole night. It looked like so much fun."

"Calix got me a modeling job," Asif said.

"How does that relate?"

"I was supposed to earn enough money so I didn't have to let Hank have his way with my ass. But the artist was hot and..."

Before either one thought of breakfast, Asif spilled out his problems to Simon. He was sober. Hungover rather. It felt good. Simon was easier to talk to than Calix. Simon wasn't going to judge him for trying to sleep with John after Calix had made John agree to nothing sexual on Simon's behalf. Simon was just disappointed it wasn't caused by drugs. Simon asked him a lot of questions about the modeling poses. Asif answered them. It was hard to be embarrassed when Simon so clearly didn't find anything embarrassing. All in all it was a pleasant morning.

"Let's go get something to eat," Asif said.

"With me?" Simon asked.

"Sure, why not?" Asif asked. Simon gave him an unreadable look. Then he shrugged.

"I don't have any clothes," Simon said.

"We can go back to your place," Asif said. Simon laughed.

"I don't have a place," Simon said.

"Where do you sleep?" Asif asked without thinking.

"Oh here and there," Simon said. "Sometimes clients pay for a room. Never this nice though."

Asif didn't want to think about how Simon had been living if this room counted as nice. He looked around the room with new eyes. A radiator to keep the large room warm, large windows that let the light in, clean white walls, a dresser, a table, bed and one chair, then the tub in the light filled bathroom. To Asif only the claw foot tub had any appeal.

Hiding his pity, Asif dressed himself and Simon in the ostentatious finery that Hank had happily paid for. Together they ate. Asif paid and Asif insisted on Simon keeping the room for the rest of the week. Simon protested weakly and eventually accepted.

Before they parted, Simon gave Asif his share on the grounds that Asif was better with money. Asif was instantly suspicious. Had he hidden pity only to have Simon of all people pity him? What punishment was this? But then he remembered that Simon didn't play games like Calix did. Reluctantly Asif accepted the cred sticks and Simon slipped away.

It wasn't like Calix was all bad. He was reliable. Simon wasn't. Simon didn't seem to worry. Calix didn't seem to worry either but more because he constantly planned in advance. He was going places and clearly wanted to take Asif with him. That was good. Without Calix he would be out on the streets since last week. It wasn't like Calix didn't have reasons. What happened to Calix's home made Asif glad to be from his, and he hated the place.

At least it was still there. At least the factions didn't get that bad.

Calix had his reasons. Asif was sympathetic. But if Simon had a tragic past he wasn't sharing. It made him more fun to hang out with.

His stomach twisted. He was a horrible friend. Calix had done so much for him. Calix had suffered so much. Simon might've suffered. Asif hadn't seen signs but maybe Simon was better at hiding things. He only knew because Calix had told him. He was drunk. Then the next night he examined Asif minutely.

To clear his mind, Asif turned into a market square. He didn't mean to buy anything. It just happened as if the old saying was true. He found himself fingering a glass bead necklace as he thought of home in the periphery. He remembered plunging his hands through tight woven baskets of beads. The glass was cool on his skin like water, like silk. His mother had slapped him for his explorations. No, he didn't want to remember that. Not today, maybe not ever.

Asif moved on. Today it seemed as though everything reached out to him with memories of home. The beads, the weave of a fabric, the lilt of an accent, the beat of a song. He searched for something that held no uncomfortable memories of home. He took random turns until he was deep within the market. Only then did he find what he was looking for.

It was a beaded curtain. These beads were large and gaudy. Whatever style it was aping Asif wasn't familiar with. Perfect. He paid for it and a bag for it as well. He left before he could regret it.

Twice he was mistaken for someone who lived in a place where it was safe to entrust management with packages. After the last, Asif's collections of bags alerted the merchants as to what type of place he lived in. Embarrassed, Asif took himself and his packages home.

He nearly tripped over the next thing that he bought. He heard laughter but he didn't know if it came from the street bravos or the two soldiers walking towards him.

The owner of the converted gondola yelled at him until Asif made clear his interest. Suddenly the woman was polite. Everything was fine until he went to pay. She refused to take Hank's cred stick. Too high, too much. When she saw his many cred sticks, she tried to change the price. Then she tried to double charge him for it. By the end she was accusing him of theft.

Asif backed away. He'd been scammed by a grannie. He had to figure out if her gambit was to call for the officials--not that there were many down here--or if she was working with the street bravos. His body was his livelihood. His skin was completely unblemished. If that changed... if they cut his face.

"Hey now, he already paid for that," said a loud voice. Both he and the woman looked up and up again at the sturdy shed of human that had spoken. They were beautiful. Brown skin with a golden glow, braids tight to the skull, large eyes so brown they first appeared black, all focused on Asif. Again, he was glad of his complexion.

"Fahad, what are you getting us into," said the other soldier.

"Relax, Sahil, we watched him pay," Fahad said. His large hooked nose sat in his strong face like a finely cut diamond in the perfect setting.

"Fahad, the Sergeant warned us about the technique," Sahil said and pointedly glanced at the street bravos.

"It'll be fine," Fahad said without looking at him. He approached the old woman who cowered away from him. Fahad didn't seem bothered by this. Oh to have that confidence. Asif had been ready to give up on the bed and take the loss as punishment for believing anyone would sell something that nice here.

The old woman glared. "Carry it away then."

Asif looked down at the boat. What had he done?

"Good, Haider's here. Haider!" Fahad's voice carried across the street. Then he turned to Asif. "Where do you want us to take this?"

Asif gaped at him. What did this idiot think he was doing? Surprise didn't even begin to cover it.

"Go, go go!" The old lady said. "Leave now."

"Yeah, yeah," Fahad said to the old woman. As soon as Haider arrived, Fahad directed him and Sahil to lift up the gondola cum bed and carry it. Then he turned to Asif and asked him where he lived.

As if in a dream, Asif led the three huge soldiers and his new bed to the apartment that Calix insisted on renting instead of something closer to the Gilded Cockatryce. The beautiful soldier kept talking to Asif. Somehow he managed to provide adequate answers. Fahad listened to Asif. He remembered Asif's answers. He didn't feel flattered. Instead he felt like he was failing a pop quiz about himself. Blessed Sahil tried his best to restrain Fahad, but Fahad paid him no attention. When Asif looked up into those dark eyes he found his tongue forming words he never meant to say to anyone--let alone a soldier.

Radcliffe, the super, leered at Asif. Then he caught sight of Asif's companions. His expression changed. Asif ignored him. His purchases were not Radcliffe's business and neither was his choice of companions. His room was on the second floor and it was a welcome sight. The faster they got this over with, the better. He opened the door then opened the interior door and let them through to his bedroom.

The soldiers made the room feel crowded. Even when Sahil and Haider left at the first chance they got it was still crowded. Fahad and the bed--the front half of an entire gondola--took up most of the space.

"Well, Asif, what are you going to do with this?"

Apparently one of the questions he'd answered had been what his name was. He'd answered with the truth. Then forgotten. Calix would scold him so much. One was bad but both were inexcusable.

"Use it as a bed," Asif said. No use in lying now that he's come to his senses.

"What have you been using?" Fahad asked. In answer Asif pointed out the massage table that had been banished to the corner. The less he talked, the better. Oh, how had he gotten in this position?

"Oh, I was hoping you were proficient in massage," Fahad said.

"No, I just cover people in oil," Asif said. If Calix said that, it would be witty. In Asif's mouth the words sounded stupid. Fahad didn't notice. He kept his eyes on Asif.

"And how much for an hour of your time?" Fahad asked. Asif quoted a price so low that Fahad asked how much to spend the night or day with him.

"I don't know, no one's ever wanted that," Asif said. He didn't mean to be so honest or so bitter. It was as if all of Calix's lessons had fled in the face of Fahad!

"Think about it. I'll be in touch," Fahad said.

"You don't have my contact information," Asif said. Fahad smiled then, with strong long fingers, he gripped Asif's wrist and turned it so he could access Asif's watch. He watched still and silent as Fahad entered his contact information. Asif's heart beat loudly in his ears. Surely not even his dark complexion could hide a blush this close. Surely Fahad could feel the heat of his face. The man's fingers were still on his wrist. He looked down. Fahad removed them.

"Now you do and I bid you adieu," he said and left the room. Asif followed Fahad out and watched him walk down the hall. He didn't share Calix's history with soldiers but he wasn't sure he liked them. Fahad was... he was confusing. He moved so quietly.

He slipped back in and not only locked but barred the door behind him. The outer door was sturdy even if the walls were thin. Calix had liked that. Asif wasn't sure he did. It was too late to try to find a new place to rent. If he did it'd be closer to the Gilded Cockatryce. Maybe he could get Simon to live with him.

Simon took care of him and offered to do it again. For nothing! Asif didn't think Calix would do that. Not without a good scolding first. If Calix had been in Simon's shoes he would've had clients booked in advance for each time Asif modeled. He'd have sold tickets. If he didn't kidnap Asif for his own good and drag him to a proper brothel. Simon was happy to stay in the room Asif paid for during the week and happy to join in on Asif's night of debauchery. And Asif repaid that by spending Simon's money on a boat bed. He was a horrible friend.

He could pay Simon back. He had the purple cred stick. Asif would just have to figure out how to get the money off the purple cred stick. How hard could it be?

He stared at his new bed. There were no gondolas at home. This was entirely new. This type of conveyance wasn't unique to the City, but the whimsical boats hadn't made their way to the periphery before terraforming techniques improved. Even if he didn't have the back part of the boat, the front bits and covered sitting area was enough for him.

Asif examined it. First he removed the mattress. It had a strange and unpleasant smell. He made a note to get another one as soon as possible. With all that had happened last night, Asif had enough to do it now. He could even afford to send a registered runner out to a store, and pay for the delivery of what was purchased.

With the mattress off it was easier to see that this was a converted gondola and not just a bed made to resemble a boat. Slats for the mattress interrupted his view of the bottom. He was a little disappointed. There was less room in the boat than he had assumed there would be. This lasted until he found the false bottom. This had clearly been owned by a smuggler. Asif grinned. He'd read about these in stories but never seen any in his life that weren't behind museum glass.