“Idon’t.”
“No?? Then why are you in here jerking off in the small hours of the morning?”
Urzan looked at him finally, annoyance writ across his expression. “A male is allowed to have a private wank now and then.”
Xenoth felt his kropek mane puffing up, his dark turquoise lengths swelling out around him as he growled at his brother angrily, his ire fizzing its way down his strands and sparking across the floor to zap against his brother’s purple ones where they lay limply against the floor. His brother growled back half-heartedly, not even bothering to move his kropek out of the way of Xenoth’s angry display.
“Four. Nights. In. A. Row.”Xenoth leaned in, poking Urzan in the shoulder with each word, the physical skin-to-skin contact a liberty only he could get away with, being blood-kin.
“Whenyouhave been away fromyourfemale for so long,thenyou may lecture me as to the proper duration and quantity of my self-pleasuring sessions,” Urzan snapped. “Until then, justshut upand get me another container.”
Xenoth blinked. “Already?”
“YES, ALREADY!”
Xenoth swiftly handed him another fluid collector, his brother’s kropek doing the swap so that Urzan’s hands could continue stroking his mating tube. Xenoth did his best to keep his eyes averted, a pretense at propriety. His own kropek took the full container from his brother, before stretching long to slide it into the wall slot across the room, which would send the full container down to cryo-storage.
“You should let me call Arzog,” Xenoth pushed gently. “He will at least drain you properly.”
Urzan’s head thunked against the sterile wall of the shower stall, his shoulders hunching and his kropek bunching around him in a tired, defensive position.
“Can you not just let me have my agony wank in peace, brother?” his voice mumbled from behind the purple curtain of his kropek. “Just hand me some containers and go.Please.”
“Answer me one question first and then I’ll go.”
Urzan grunted in agreement.
“How long has your cycle been shortened?”
Urzan peeked over his shoulder with a guilty expression, yellow streaks of embarrassment passing swiftly from his crown and down through to the base of his kropek. Xenoth’s lips thinned as his suspicions were confirmed.
“Are you in pain yet?”
Urzan’s face turned away, the curtain of his kropek closing him off once again. “Every Z’arth-damned day.”
Xenoth sighed, acid-green worry flickering through his turquoise locks. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was worse than he thought.
“How long, Urzan? I need to know. It’s important.”
“The last three lunar cycles,” Urzan told him quietly, still stroking himself behind his drooping purple kropek.
Xenoth let out a curse that would have made his mother’s ancestors proud.
“THREE CYCLES?!” he shouted. “YOU’VE NOT TOLD ME FOR THREE Z’ARTH-BLASTED CYCLES?!”
“You were busy!” Urzan flinched, hunching in on himself, kropek pulling in tightly to protect him from his brother’s fury, little hints of orange and yellow flickering here and there throughout his strands.
“I’M ALWAYS BUSY, URZAN! THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU’RE TRYING TO REBUILD A SPECIES!”
Xenoth threw several empty containers at his brother’s head before stomping out of the cleansing room. A gentle tug on his kropek brought him to a halt in the doorway. One of Urzan’s strands had slipped across the floor to tangle with Xenoth’s; the little brother grabbing onto his big brother for support.
“I’m sorry,” Urzan said, tears in his eyes as he looked across at Xenoth. “I’msorry, Xenoth. Please…Please don’t be mad! I’m just…” He looked away, sobbing slightly. “I’mscared.”
Xenoth wound his kropek around his brother’s, stroking it gently in their familial gesture of affection.
“I’m sorry for yelling,” he told his brother quietly, still holding tightly, kropek to kropek. “…I’m scared, too.”
Urzan looked over at him, tears running down his face in a glittering stream, only to be reabsorbed by his skin before they could drip from his chin.
