Partner

I am absolutely exhausted. While I'd like to write the next one (it and maybe one other make up the shore leave) I doubt that I could find the right keys on the keyboard, let alone spell properly.

I like Mik's mom. She's very ... odd yet at the same time, she's the only one who Mik ever listens to. She has a quality to her words that's just so pleasant to me.

Or maybe it's the fact that Mik doesn't interrupt her every three words. Yes, I think I will do three posts.

Which sucks for the whole I want Mik/Paw smex... or Mik/Paw/Souse.

I've "logiced" a threesome. You would not believe my insanity but it works and it's ... it's Souse.

Did I mention I'm supposed to be in bed? Like two hours ago?

Read, Review and enjoy.






“Oh, you are just going to love Jay, he is such a sweetheart,” his mother babbled on and on about her plants and garden and her fish and all that she had done in the three months that Mik had been away. She steered the cat off of the freeway and smiled sweetly at Mik, “when you called to say you wouldn’t be coming for Piho’s anniversary I was relieved, I love you, I do, but you can be judgemental of other men sometimes and I was being selfish, I wanted to keep him to myself. It is just such … such a … feeling to know a desire once more.”

“Mom,” Mik hardly noticed when they slipped back into his mother’s native tongue.

He wasn’t certain which was his native tongue, he had learned both the common language and the southern language that was his mother’s native tongue.

“Your lahu is very nice, I like it.”

Mik looked down at his shirt, then jerked his head up. Lahu. Lahhhu, draw out the word longer and it was the Sidhe word for shirt. The way Paw had pronounced it was almost adding an ‘l’ sound in amongst the ‘h’ sound.

He frowned.

“What have you been doing over the past few months?”

“Working on a new program. They decided that I needed some time away, because I was working so hard.”

“Were you doing good?”

“I was,” which was the first time he could say that without altering the truth.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“What were you doing in this program?”

“Stuff that, unfortunately, I’m not allowed to talk about. Not yet.”

“Mm,” she nodded along, tucked a strand of graying hair behind her ear and pulled the car into the drive effortlessly.

She didn’t own a metal home. Her home was made of wood and the inside seemed old and antiquated. The furniture was all from second hand shops, the types of things that no one else bought any more. Over stuffed chairs covered in flowery fabrics and clocks that ticked loudly, hands slowly winding their way around the face.

He followed his mother into the house and slipped into his old bedroom immediately, to unpack. Maps of the stars and pictures of mythical creatures graced his walls. His bookshelf was made up entirely of medical books that had been far too complicated for his then twelve year old mind. The videos were of Piho, of military training. Books titled “Only You Can Help Yourself” and “Surviving Through Grief” still sat upon his desk. In the wood he had carved little figures, imps and faeries giggling at him as he did his homework.

Carving had been a hobby, something he had taken up to fill his lonely hours, when other kids his age had been playing with friends. He had grown adept at it… but what school would encourage a boy to carve into wood when it was such a combustible object, with how expensive wood was?

He set his bag at the end of his bed, little more than a cot, and sighed out before joining his mother in her quaint little kitchen. Roosters decked out some of the tiles that covered the back splash behind the sink. The sink itself was made of ceramic, not metal. The stove had gone yellow with age but looked quaint. The cupboards were stained a dark colour, some bearing the mark of Mik’s idle carvings. His mother sat at her old oak table, a well loved, battered and cracked mug sitting before her, her tea pot sitting in a cozy that she had knitted herself to look like a little fat pig.

She smiled kindly at him and patted the mismatched chair that sat beside hers. He slid into the chair and looked at her. She smiled at him and looked at her tea before looking back at him.

“A man’s heart can be tamed with love, you know,” she murmured to him, “Not all men, no, not by far…” her voice broke off as she was swept away into a distant memory that seemed all the more real to her because of her over active imagination, “but the good ones, the ones that can be saved. In times long past, the women ruled the household. They chose who their sons would marry, who was permitted to marry their daughters. They cooked the food and washed the clothing and spun the wool and the smart men accepted the mantle of servant. They accepted the leash that the women put around their hearts with a dignity and pride that outshone all other mantles. But sometime in the past, this country forgot what a woman was.”

“Mom. The military-”

“This isn’t about the military. If anything, the military clings to those old ways. The men go off to protect their women and their women’s children. They bring peace to the land so that the children of their wives can grow up. They keep their wives out of the military because those rules. Such strict, masculine rules. How do you, even, breath with those rules confining you? Hm? The soul is mean to be free, Mikalon.”

“Please don’t…”

“You may not like that name, but if it were not for that man, you would not exist. If your father had not been the way he was, you would not be where you are now.”

“And where is that?”

“With a twinkle in your eye, here to ask your mother about her new love,” She smiled secretly at him, “are you going to tell me about her?”

Mik sighed, “Mom… it’s not… I mean…”

“Oh,” she giggled into her hand, “are you going to tell me about him?”

How had she… “It’s not like that!”

“Before you leave, you are going to tell me all about him,” she waved a hand at him and then looked towards the sliding glass door that separated the house from her garden.

The garden seemed to have taken over more of the porch than Mik had remembered. The man who slipped into the kitchen was taller than Mik with bright, vibrantly coloured blue eyes. Like the brightest blue the sky could be, like the colour of a perfect flower. His hair was shaggy, but clean and seemed to float as he closed the door behind him. Those eyes darted to Mik and dared him to say something.

Tall and slender, long in bone and slender in the face.

Mik would bet almost anything that the man’s hair was soft as a kitten’s fur. That his skin was so smooth the water seemed to just deflect off it. That under the loose shirt and pants there was a perfectly muscled form and that if he stood and challenged the male, he would slouch backwards and give Mik that special kind of dangerous look.

Sidhe.

He was standing from the table before he realised what he was doing. The man took a breath in, opened his mouth just slightly and took another breath in. The blue eyes narrowed as they moved up and then down Mik’s body and finally fell on his mother. Delight played over the features, a smile and a gentle understanding.

This Sidhe was bonded to his mother.

His mother.

HIS.

Mik glanced at his mother, who was staring at the man, and then back at the man.

“Mik, this is Jay, Jay, Mik,” She said, almost breathless.

“How long have you two known each other?” Mik asked, through clenched teeth and an attempted smile.

The man watched Mik’s mother until her head was turned away before he bore his teeth just the same and fell into an aggressive stance for just an instant.

Maybe Mik had imagined it.

Maybe he was so used to reading body language that he was reading into the way a people male reacted to the son of the woman he was banging. Bastard. Cock sucking, son of a fucking bitch, how dare he try and-

“I’ll go fetch the albums!”

And Mik’s mother was off.

The man’s smile faded the moment his mother left the room. Mik clenched his jaw, then his hands.

“What in the seventeen hells are you doing here?” he hissed at the man, “you have no place being here.”

“She…” Jay paused for a moment and licked his lips, “enjoys my company. And I, I enjoy hers.”

“That is not what I’m talking about you walking bundle of bush meat,” Mik growled through clenched teeth, “And you know it.”

Jay sighed out heavily, “what makes you think-”

“Sidhe.”

Another sigh, “I was hoping we could act like two males. Not…” blue eyes met Mik’s and realised the futility of the conversation, “what gave it away?”

“The hair, the eyes. The fact that no people male has ever met up with my mother’s standards.”

“Like mother, like son… it seems,” Jay purred, stepping closer, “Are you enjoying the young flesh you rape every night?”

“Are you enjoying my mother, you fucking bastard,” Mik whispered back.

His mother chose that moment to enter with the albums. Both males smiled innocently at each other as she set them down and opened the top one. She stopped, frowned at it and muttered something about not being what she thought it was. She closed it and wandered back out of the kitchen.

“What right do you have to growl at me, when you-”

“How am I supposed to know he’s young? Is forty-two young? Can you tell that from smelling me? I’ve showered and been on a plane since then.”

“Your clothing.”

“…” right. Clothing that sat in the room where he and Paw slept, every other night, “well. I have an excuse, what is yours?”

“I was told to be here and such and such a time. And when I arrived… such a goddess, such a … a delight.”

“Whisper.”

“…” Jay’s head twisted to the side at a near impossible angle, “what makes you think that he would speak to me of such a woman? Whisper knows nothing of you, why would he care about your mother?”

“Then who? Who would possibly care about what happens to my mother, besides me?”

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

His mother re-entered, holding an album in her hands as she beamed at the two males. Jay was smiling sweetly once more, but Mik couldn’t seem to make the right motions to smile.

Know what?



.