drabble drabble

[maculategiraffe]

At current posting, Yves/Valor is at a distant second in the poll (which I suspect is the only kind of second that a not-slash prompt could be with you lot!). I'm working on Jer's first night, but it's more intense and might take a while. Wrote this pretty quickly last night and when I finished it was 996 words, so I decided to make it an even thousand. Set let's say a little less than a year after the end of the epilogue of "Bran." Yves/Valor, so het-- well, sortakinda.








"Hey," said Valor, tracing a line down Yves' sweat-damp back with one long, cool finger as he lay on his stomach, trying to catch his breath. "Haven't seen any stripes here for a while now."

Yves smiled. "Not since Bran and Jer moved in."

"No?" Valor tugged at Yves' shoulder and he rolled compliantly over on his back; she straddled his groin, peering down at him with an interest that never seemed to flag, although she was leaving his cock mercifully alone for the moment. He smiled tiredly up at her, taking in the view of her small, pert breasts, her long, thin torso faintly rippled with just-visible ribs, and the dark hair clinging damply to her coltish neck. It was still odd for him to see her like this; she'd been such a chubby child, dimpled and rounded. "Does he hit them instead, or something?"

"I don't think so." Yves shrugged. "Though I don't really know what he does with Jer. I know he doesn't beat Bran."

"Didn't think so. Bran's all--" Valor gestured with one hand, a wiggly motion that Yves didn't currently have the energy to interpret, then let herself collapse back onto the bed beside Yves and cuddled up, nuzzling his neck; relieved, he wrapped an arm around her, hugging her close. "Dad still touches him like he's afraid he's going to break him."

"Maybe he is." Yves winced as Valor bit his shoulder affectionately. "Please don't do that, Miss Valor. You know he doesn't like you to leave marks on me."

"I won't leave a mark," said Valor, but she stopped biting him. "Doesn't it bother you, sharing the man you love with his old flame and his new boy toy?"

Yves turned and grinned at her. "Doesn't it bother you, sharing the man you love with your father?"

"Shut up!" Valor laughed, pinching Yves' nipple hard enough to make him gasp. "It's not like I didn't try to get you out of my wicked father's clutches and into my bed for good."

"Yes, that would have worked out well for everyone involved," said Yves dryly, and closed his eyes; Valor's slender fingers were playing across his chest now, toying with the light, downy hair, and it felt good.

"Don't fall asleep on me yet," she said, and he opened his eyes obediently. "But really, Yves-- aren't you jealous at all?"

"No, Miss Valor." He smiled at her as her hand slid lower. "Though you're sweet to worry. No, I'm really not."

"Why not?" Valor's finger dipped into his navel, even as her vivid green eyes looked into his with genuine concern. "I mean-- you know? It's not just because you're a slave and you can't expect any better, is it?"

Yves couldn't help laughing as he reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, and Valor grimaced, adding, "I mean-- oh, damn it. Pretend I came up with a tactful way to say that."

"That might tax even my imagination," said Yves, grinning, and Valor grinned back a little sheepishly. "No, Miss Valor. I said my piece when he first told me. I mean, I like Jer, but the idea of living with him, sharing my master for the first time in almost twenty years-- that threw me, and I told him so." He put his hand over Valor's as it caressed his belly. "He understood, and he's-- made allowances. Plus, Jer's been easier to live with than I thought. And I'm happy for them both. After all this time."

"But what about Bran?" Valor's hand had stopped moving, resting between his hand and his stomach. "I'd think that would be the hardest thing. Bran's so-- young. If I were a slave, and pushing forty--"

"If you were a slave, your owner would have you gagged all the time," said Yves, and Valor giggled. "Bran's a good kid. I did think at first--" He considered as Valor put her mouth on his shoulder again, not biting this time, but sucking and lapping sensuously. "He's always so gentle with Bran. And sometimes when he has to be really careful and gentle with a kid, it's that much worse with me, you know. Like he has to let go with someone he knows won't fall to pieces. I was afraid that with Bran here for good-- but it hasn't been like that, not at all. Bran makes him--" He shrugged again, one-shouldered, since Valor was still sucking on the other shoulder. "Happy."

She pulled back, looking at him seriously. "You make him happy."

"Of course I do." Yves took his hand off hers, and she took it as a signal to move her hand lower, carding her fingers softly through his pubes. "It's not a zero-sum game. The more people who make him happy, the happier he is."

"What's a zero-sum game?"

Yves caught his breath as her fingers closed around his cock. "You remember-- game theory. Statistics homework, couple of years back--"

"Oh, right," she said in his ear as she teased his cock with a gentle stroking motion, and he sighed inaudibly, relaxing into the touch. "I think I got an A on that test."

"You'd better have," he said, closing his eyes again and thinking of Holden's touch, Holden's firm hand stroking his cock back to wakefulness. "We studied enough."

Valor leaned in to kiss his neck as his cock slowly hardened in her hand.

"When I'm a lawyer--" she said softly, between kisses, "-- will you still-- help me study?"

Yves moved his hips, shifting himself in her hand. "If you still want me to."

"Always." She was climbing on top of him again, and he opened his eyes, gazing up at her, at her restless angular face and at the dimples that still popped out in her cheeks when she smiled. "Yves, you know you're the love of my life."

"I know, Miss Valor," he said, smiling back as she grasped his cock again. "You're your father's daughter."