“Just like you,” I mused, and you smiled, knowing you had won. If only I had the mettle to fight you, but I indulged whatever pastimes brought you joy, and nursing wounded and feral felines was one of them. I wondered if you weren’t still trying to replace your beloved Spooky, whose body had passed on shortly after our return from the under realms, and who now had an altar of worship amongst my garden statues. I didn’t know if Bastet had decided we no longer needed surveilling or if she intended to send another of her handmaidens into our keep. It certainly wouldn’t be difficult to infiltrate your menagerie.
“Do I need to place a limit on your obsession?” I asked, recalling my former one-cat rule.
“Maybe but not until I have one of every color,” you said as if you intended to accessorize. “Besides, fishing for their food gives Papa something productive to do.”
Productive according to you, I thought fondly.“Well, what will you name him?”
“That’s the best part,” you said, beaming. “You’re naming this one.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
“Because I got him for you.”
You thrust the fur ball into my lap and took over rowing for a spell. The animal’s gray coat was dull and worn, and one of its eyes was missing, likely due to whatever had caused the large diagonal scar across its face. He hissed a little, like a wheezing bellows, but didn’t bite or scratch, which was good enough for me, my standards for pet behavior having been lowered significantly by Spooky.
“Don’t you think I deserve a handsomer specimen?”
“No,” you scoffed. “This one’sseenthings. He’s lived hard on the streets, fighting for every scrap, and now he’s ready for a little rest and relaxation.”
“A retiree?” I asked, still skeptical. “Are you suggesting we’re similar in some way?”
“Yes. And despite his tough exterior, he’s actually very sweet, came right up to me in a bazaar in Cairo and ate out of my hand.”
“Who wouldn’t?” I said and stroked his patchy fur until he’d settled back into something like a congested snore. “I think I would have preferred you to bring me back a spear as a souvenir.”
“Next time,” you promised.
I hoped that next time would be a long while from now. “I’ve missed you,” I said and traded the cat for the oars, since your stamina was flagging, as was my own.
“How much?” you asked, your eyes an intoxicating mix of lust and anticipation.
“My bed’s been cold without you.”
“Any one of our cats would have kept you warm.”
“You’re the only cat I want in my bed.”
You leaned forward, coming nearly close enough for me to kiss you but not quite. “Row faster, Henri.”
We arrived at my beaches shortly thereafter. Your—or should I saymy—new pet was left to scratch at the shore and hunt for mice and insects in the underbrush while you luxuriated against a rock with your toes in the sand. I’d packed a picnic for us to enjoy by the water, and you looked upon the spread with delight.
“How’d you know I’d be starving?” You clapped your hands together with boyish enthusiasm. “You’re the absolute best. You really did miss me, didn’t you?”
“I always do.” I led you by hand to the blanket where I’d laid out some of your favorite foods, including a bottle of blood and a chilled white wine on ice that you favored, refreshing in the heat of the day.
“Henri,” you said and spun me around. Your eyes drank me in, roving over my physique from head to foot. I glanced down to see what had attracted your attention. “Look at you, with your jorts and your shirt barely buttoned. You’re having a hot boy summer.”
I flicked open another button to tantalize you further and said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
You crooked one finger and like a dog, I answered.
“Kiss me,” you commanded, but when I advanced it was you who kissed me with a disarming sweetness that transformed into possession as our passions flared. Your skin was like warm tallow where it molded to my hands, and I held you as though trying to grasp the sun, for you were the center of my universe and the star of my own orbit. When our breath was spent and our mouths fully reacquainted—every stroke of the tongue and wet slide of plush lip remembered—you broke away.
“Damn,” you said and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand rakishly. “I always forget how it feels to be with you.”
“How does it feel?”
“Like every single moment is more intense than the last. You are… exponential in every way.” I glanced down to where you’d commented on my being exponential before, and you shook your head, grinning. “Still all about that dick, aren’t you?”
