Entanglements: Sequel to Gardening Tips

BY : Lursa_and_BeTor
Category: 1 through F > Andromeda
Dragon prints: 4498
Disclaimer: I do not own Andromeda, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.


Rhade stands in the bunk area watching in bemusement as the human yanks clothes off as if there is a race and sizable bet involved. Harper tosses his boots aside. The violently purple shirt with trees on it sails across the room to the other bunk. “Is there a reason for your haste, Second Consort?”

“Let’s just get on with it.” Harper snaps.

Rhade stares at the small human and tries to decide the best approach. What will win him the affection of the Second Consort?

“What are you waiting for, Telemachus?” Harper’s hands drop to the waistband of his cargo pants. He looks Rhade up and down with a brisk businesslike air.

“You used my name.” Rhade sits on one of the bunks and slowly removes his boots. Is it a sign of acceptance? A granting of intimacy?

“What of it?” Harper glares at the Nietzschean.

“Does it signify that you are…accepting me as your comforter?” Rhade eyes the Second Consort warily, trying to gauge the human’s mood. What role should he assume? What will please the human? He can scent both anger and desire.

“It’s just your name. Would you rather I call you something else?” Harper snipes as he unfastens the button on his waistband.

Rhade lowers his eyes. It’s going to be a long session if he has to keep fighting back his innate aggressiveness to project a reassuring submissiveness rather than allow himself a more natural response. “No. Whatever you wish, Second Consort.”

“Look, I told you.” Harper sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “My name is Harper. Call me that.”

Rhade sits quietly for a moment, head slightly bent, waiting but the human is not approaching him. He raises his head and boldly studies the Second Consort. What does Harper want? The assumed submissiveness is apparently neither fooling Harper nor enticing the human to come closer. How should he proceed? Perhaps if he can learn a little about Harper’s relationship with the Progenitor, he can figure out what he needs to do…what will please Harper. “May I ask a question…Harper?”

“Yeah, what is it?” Harper looks at Rhade warily. His fingers remain motionless on his waistband, apparently reluctant to remove the barrier of pants.

“What did the Progenitor call you?”

“You overestimate your importance to me, Rhade.” Harper’s eyes narrow in anger. His voice is hard and flat. “What is between Tyr and me is private. Don’t ever ask about it again, understood?”

“Understood.” Rhade stares down at his strong hands. If there was a fight or a threat to the Second Consort, that he knows how to deal with but this…he had little experience with this sort of thing. He knows that he is pleasing and skilled with women but his only experience with a male had been with the Progenitor who had made it plain what was wanted. He is uncertain what will please Harper and he does not want to make a mistake. This position is too important to jeopardize. “It’s just that…”

“What?” Harper snaps. His fingers tap impatiently at his narrow waist.

“I’ve never…yielded to a…”

“A what? A kludge?” Harper’s voice is sharp.

“No. I’ve never yielded to any male.” Except for the Progenitor but that was an extreme case and didn’t really count. The experience of having his chemistry overridden had been surreal…almost frightening to find himself yielding to the strong surge of the Progenitor’s chemistry, to feel the slow overwhelming of his defenses and then the craving for more and more…followed by the dazed, shuddering days of recovery in the weeks after Tyr left him.

“Ahh haa.” Harper smiles suddenly. His expression softens. “Don’t worry my little comfort studly; I’ll be gentle.”

Still no cues as to what the human wants. Very well, he will try to follow his instincts but keep them restrained enough that he does not alarm the Second Consort. Rhade pulls his black cotton sweater over his head with a slow ripple of muscle. He is pleased to see the blue eyes darkening as Harper watches him closely. He drops the sweater on the bunk and stands. He unfastens his pants and pulls them off, baring himself to the Second Consort’s interested gaze. “Is my appearance pleasing to you, Harper?”

“Nice. Very nice.” Harper murmurs.

Rhade walks over to the human and tilts Harper’s head back. He brushes a kiss across the human’s lips, parting them and sinking deep into the cool, velvet mouth. His tongue glides in for a slow, through exploration that has the human’s hands tightening on his waist.

Harper moans and presses closer, opening his mouth wider. His hands slide up the Nietzschean’s back, tracing the flex and ripple of hard muscles from narrow waist to wide shoulders then back down to cradle the hard curves of ass. “I can hardly wait to sink into your tight ass, Rhade.”

“I am yours for whatever will bring you pleasure.” Rhade kisses his way down the pale column of the human’s throat. His mouth closes over the skin surrounding the dataport, making the compact body in his arms arch frantically against him. Perhaps he can make the human hot and desperate enough that Harper will forget about riding him for now. Rhade lingers over the sensitive skin, trying a series of licks, nibbles and kisses until Harper is breathing harshly and clinging to him. He finally moves lower. His tongue swirls damply in the hollow of Harper’s throat, making the human’s head tilt back.

Harper clings to Rhade. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Yes.” Rhade nips Harper’s chin. His hands slide over the human’s chest as he kneels.

Harper gasps. “Well, at least we cleared that up.”

Rhade spreads kisses over the pale chest. He nibbles lightly on the peach nipples as Harper’s hands slide up his throat and spread through his hair, cupping his skull. Rhade deftly unfastens the cargo pants and he slides the fabric down. He arches an eyebrow at the blue and beige stripped boxers. Humans. Rhade shakes his head and slides the underwear down.

“You have a glorious body, Harper.” He blinks at the vision in front of him. Damn. He’d never believed that Harper was concealing a prize like this under those baggy pants. A Nietzschean would have dressed to display an asset like that instead of concealing it. Add this asset to the skillful mouth and the brilliant mind and no wonder the Progenitor claimed this human.

Rhade kisses the thick length quivering in front of him, flicking his tongue teasingly against the warm skin. His hands close over the hard swells of the human’s ass, pulling the compact body closer as his mouth glides over the hard cock, taking it as deeply as he can. “You are delicious.” Who would have thought that a human could taste so good?

“I’ve always been a tasty morsel.” Harper chuckles. His fingers comb through the thick, black hair.

Rhade reluctantly allows his prize to slip from his mouth and kisses his way back up the tight row of stomach muscles. His arms close firmly around the lithe body as he kisses his way back up to claim Harper’s mouth. He growls as cool hands close over his own throbbing cock. He presses the human back and down into the bed behind Harper.

He sinks deep into the human’s mouth as his legs ease between the Consort’s thighs, spreading them wide. Rhade growls as the cool body squirms and wiggles enticingly beneath him. He rubs himself against the velvet thickness of the human’s cock. The Consort’s smooth, cool skin feels so good, smells so good, and tastes so good. How could the Progenitor tear himself away from this and yield it up, however temporarily, to another?

“Ohhhh, Harper.” Rhade moans. His mouth settles demandingly over the dataport, sucking hard. He can feel the rapid pulse of the human’s heartbeat, the urgent arch of the small body. At this rate, they will both be done soon with no yielding of his own ass but all his instincts urge him to sink into the human’s; to claim, to demand the submission that is his due as an Alpha. His bone blades flutter restlessly. Almost involuntarily he slides lower, his cock nudging against the velvety cleft.

Harper’s hands grip his hair firmly, pulling his head back. Rhade moves with the pull, meeting the smoldering blue eyes. Despite the huskiness of the human’s voice there is no doubt that the words are an order. “Don’t forget yourself, Telemachus. I’m the only one doing any riding tonight.”

“Of course, Harper.” Rhade lowers his eyes, fighting back his instincts – the need to challenge, to assert himself, to take. He must allow this…must yield to the Second Consort. It was easier with the Progenitor. The Progenitor’s dominance and overwhelming biochemistry had made it easier for him by overriding his Alpha instincts. But now…he must yield to a smaller, weaker human without the biochemistry or physical strength to overcome him. Rhade shudders with the effort of holding back.

Harper slides out from under his body and kneels over him. “Good. Now. On your knees, Telemachus.”

Rhade rises to his knees, spreading his thighs. He stares down at the gray cover and white sheets beneath his hands and knees. How can he bear this? He is Alpha, not submissive. His bone blades flutter with tension as Harper moves between his legs. Cool hands settle on the hard curves of Rhade’s ass, exploring the flex and bunch of muscles in response to this caress and that. He shivers at the brush of soft lips, the rasp of shaven cheeks and sharp press of teeth as Harper nips the swell of his ass. Cool, curious fingers cup the weight of his sac and glide up to dancing teasingly along his cleft making Rhade tense and gasp. “I have never…I don’t know what…”

“Don’t worry, Telemachus. You may be a bit sore tomorrow but I won’t hurt you.” Harper chuckles. He strokes the small of the Nietzscheans back in soothing patterns. “Well, actually, it is going to be a bit painful at first unless you relax.”

“This is all so new to me.” Relax? How is he supposed to relax with a tiny human topping him? At least it will be over soon. The human will probably climax quickly then fall asleep.

Harper spreads gentle kisses across the tense back muscles as his hands caress, urging relaxation. “I’ll be gentle the first time.”

“The ‘first’ time?” That comment brings his head up and around, his widening gaze meeting the smoldering blue eyes. Is the human joking? No. He will be expected to do this more than once this session. He had not considered that the Second Consort might not be satisfied with once…Rhade looks away from the bright eyes.

“You didn’t think we’d just do this once tonight, did you?” Harper asks huskily as his hand slides around Rhade’s flank to close over the thick heat of the Nietzschean’s cock.

Rhade growls as the cool, clever hand squeezes and strokes. His breath catches as the fingers circle delicately, teasing over the head. He presses into the caress. He can hardly think at all when the human does that. “I…well…I…”

“Now, where did I put that lube?” Harper muses, teasingly as his finger glide back up to caress the cleft and lightly circle his target.

Rhade bites his lower lip at the slow circles stroking insistently over him. The sensation is beginning to tantalize him. There might be compensations to this situation. “There should be some in my things.”

“Thanks, but, no, thanks. I like my own.” Harper rummages around. “Ah. Here we go.”

Rhade tenses again at the sound of a bottle top being opened. He flinches as something cool and damp is allowed to trickle down his cleft. Then the circling fingers are back, teasing him with feather light brushes that gradually ease into firmer touch as he relaxes, arching back into the caress. He gasps, tensing, resisting again as Harper’s finger slides past the tight furled opening. His eyes widen and his bone blades snap out at the invaded sensation.

“Shhh…shhhh.” Harper croons, kissing the tightening back muscles. “It’ll be fine. Relax.”

Rhade pants, trying to adjust to the alien sensation. Relax? Is the human mocking him? This is merely one of Harper’s fingers but it feels thick inside him. How is he supposed to accommodate Harper’s cock? He stills suddenly as the finger wiggles playfully. That felt…interesting. As he takes a breath, a second finger eases inside. Rhade squirms at the increased sensation of stretching, of being invaded…of thickness…something about it has him pressing back into the slow, slick touch. “I feel…”

“What, Rhade, how do you feel?” Harper moves his fingers stretching the opening gently.

“Odd. It feels odd.” The sensation is intriguing and compelling. How extraordinary.

“You’ll get used to it.” Harper slides his other hand around Rhade’s waist, gathering up and stroking the Nietzschean’s hard cock.

“Mmmmmmm…” Rhade moans, arching his spine as a third finger eases inside.

“You like that?” Harper murmurs, dropping a line of kisses down the strong line of the writhing Nietzschean’s back.

“Yes.” Rhade growls. He squirms under the slow stroke and press of those invading fingers. The idea of Harper’s cock pressing inside is beginning to seem more a promise than a threat.

“Oh, then you’re gonna love this.” Harper strokes Rhade’s sweet spot.

“Harper!” Rhade shouts as an exquisite sensation rushes through him. He had felt something similar with Progenitor but the physical sensations had been overwhelmed by the biochemical. With Harper, the physical sensations are clearer and more vivid. Rhade presses back on the stretching fingers, tilting his hips greedily. The subtle bob of his cock and soft sway of his sac adds to the voluptuous sensation. The sweetness of the feeling is indescribable. He must have more.

“I can’t wait to feel my cock pushing inside you, Rhade. I want you. Now.” Harper slides his fingers away. He coats his cock with the slippery slickness of the lube and places the wide head against the glistening furl of his target. He waits until Rhade takes a breath then he pushes in slowly.

“Oh…Oh, Harper! It’s too much!” Rhade pants, trying to adjust, trying to relax as the thick, blunt head presses inside.

“Relax. Relax.” Harper soothes as he pushes deeper into the Nietzschean. His cool hands caress the hard curves framing his cock as he watches himself sinking deeper inside. “Ummmmm. Oh, damn, your ass is so tight, Rhade!”

Rhade moans as the hard thickness glides slowly deeper. How much more of Harper’s cock can he take? He shudders, quivering and clenching uncertainly around the hard length as Harper pushes relentlessly deeper inside him. Finally, the soft brush of the human’s sac against him, tells him that he has it all. Then the slow glide of retreat as Harper withdraws.

Suddenly the cool velvet length presses over the right spot and the dazzling bright pleasure dances through him. Rhade spreads his knees wider and arches back, suddenly eager for more. “YEsssssssss….”

“Take all of me, Rhade.” Harper groans as he buries himself to the hilt again. He slowly withdraws then sinks back inside setting a gentle easy pace.

“Harper! Oh, yes!” Rhade presses back to meet Harper’s thrusts. The sweet pressure is almost overwhelming. If this is what it feels like to be ridden by the Second Consort then he can bear it gracefully, even eagerly.

“Your ass is so sweet.” Harper moans as he thrusts slowly in and out.

Rhade demands, hoarsely, “More.”

“You want more? I can do more.” Harper laughs breathlessly and begins to thrust faster, harder.

“So soooooo good…” Rhade writhes, spreading his thighs wider and tilting his hips back, meeting the thrusts.

“I’m almost there, Rhade.” Harper gasps against the wide back beneath him. “Yes. Yes. Oh, yeah. Move with me.”

“Harper. Harper. Harper.” Rhade gasps as Harper gathers up the Nietzschean’s throbbing cock and begins stroking in time to his thrusts. Rhade growls low and deep as he arches into Harper’s skillful caress. If it feels this good to be ridden by Harper; how much more pleasing will it be to ride him? The thought of yielding to Harper and then having Harper writhing under him is too much. Rhade spills himself over Harper’s clenching fist and collapses under the human.

“Almost…almost there.” Harper continues to thrust into the Nietzschean. He makes a final deep thrust and spills himself deep inside. He collapses against Rhade’s back, caressing the smooth, damp skin. “That was great.”

“It was a wonderful experience, Harper.” Rhade sighs. He can feel the slowing pace of Harper’s heart against his back, the slackness in the muscles. The Second Consort has apparently exhausted himself. The chances are good that he will be spared a second bout tonight, Rhade thinks with a faint disappointment. “Your…technique is unusual but thoroughly pleasing.”

“That was fabulous.” Harper yawns and languidly pats the muscular flanks that had given him so much pleasure. Maybe later, he will have Telemachus again but right now he is feeling suddenly relaxed and sleepy. He eases off to stretch out on the bed.

“I enjoyed that coupling. I didn’t think I would but it was…interesting.” Rhade turns over and pulls the human close against his chest. He brushes his lips over the silky spikes. “I admit that your girth seemed daunting at first but was bearable. Were you pleased, Harper?”

“Oh, yeah…that was so good.” Harper murmurs sleepily. Not as intense as what he shared with Tyr but nice. He yawns again. Ummm. The Nietzschean’s smell is oddly comforting. It faintly reminds him of Tyr’s scent. Now, if the Nietzschean would just shut up and go to sleep. Harper slides a thigh over Rhade and snuggles closer. Umm. He’d never have suspected Telemachus was the type to turn into a chatterbox after sex.

“It was indeed extraordinary, Harper. I had no idea.”

Harper absently pats his partner’s shoulder. Maybe he better drop a hint if he wants to be allowed to drift peacefully off to sleep. “I’m going to rest for a minute.”

“I am glad you were pleased.” Rhade brushes his lips against Harper’s forehead. “I’ll be here when you awaken.”

“Good.” Harper murmurs. Just as long as the bloody Nietzschean stops talking. Harper forces his heavy eyes open. Maybe all the chattiness is just Telemachus trying to figure out if he had performed to satisfaction. He does owe the Nietzschean that reassurance. Rhade had made every effort to please him. Harper tilts his head back. “Kiss me.”

Rhade lowers his head and takes the offered kiss. He sinks into the delightful coolness of Harper’s mouth and for an instant becomes lost in the kiss. Harper is his for as long as the Progenitor is away. His to please. His to protect. His arms tighten around the human as his Alpha instincts begin rising to the surface again and the kiss turns aggressive.

Harper pulls back. The blue eyes are narrowed in annoyance. “Rhade? What are you doing?”

“Thinking, Harper.” Rhade assumes an air of meekness, relaxing his grip. He meets the suddenly suspicious stare with a bland gaze.

Harper sighs loudly and snuggles back down. “Okay, but do you have to squeeze me so tight while you’re doing it?”

“Sorry. Rest, Harper. Beka will be back soon.” Rhade idly strokes the human’s back.

“Nah. I think we have the rest of the night to ourselves. Beka will stay with that thing tonight.”

Rhade tilts his head back, looking down at Harper’s face. The vivid eyes are closed. He traces the outlines of the passion mark that he left just below the human’s dataport. “She won’t suspect the simulacrum?”

“Nope. She’ll never realize it’s not Tyr.”

“She’ll…sleep with it?” Rhade drops his head back onto the pillow. How could she…but, perhaps to someone who could not scent the artificialness of the simulacrum, it might not seem unattractive. It was after all modeled on a prime example of Nietzschean manhood.

“Oh, yeah. She’s wanted to get in Tyr’s pants for a long time. She’ll see this as her chance.” Harper yawns.

“Just because Dylan told her to?” Rhade asks curiously.

“I don’t think Dylan told her to fuck Tyr. I’d bet he told her to get close to him and gain his confidence. But Beka only knows one way to do that. She’ll fuck him.”

Rhade frowns. “She has no loyalty.”

“Yeah, she’s loyal to her friends but Tyr turned her down and then he chose me.” Harper rubs his cheek against Rhade’s chest. His voice is sleepy and indifferent. “She wants to prove she’s still desirable.”

Rhade stokes his hand down the smooth skin of Harper’s chest. His fingers circle a nipple. “So clever.”

“Mmmhmm.” Harper murmurs sleepily.

Rhade cups Harper’s shaft and balls, admiring the velvet coolness filling his hand. “Have you ever bedded her?”

Harper shifts his position grumpily. “No. I offered but I guess I’m not enough of a bad boy.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” Rhade whispers.

Harper blinks blearily at him. “Why?”

“No reason.” Rhade kisses Harper’s lips lightly. “Sleep.”

Harper rolls over on his stomach, turning his face away as he snuggles into the pillow. Rhade kisses the pale shoulder. His fingers trace lightly down the line of Harper’s spine to touch the Progenitor’s mark at the base. It is no good to allow himself to develop possessive feelings about Harper. The human can never truly be his. Harper is the Progenitor’s Consort; he is someone who cannot be possessed by anyone but the Progenitor. Rhade bends to drop a kiss on the mark. The most he can do is make himself so necessary to the Second Consort that Harper will find the idea of anyone else as comforter unthinkable.

&&&

Dylan looks around at the crewmembers sitting at his conference room table. Harper is slouching in his chair, blinking sleepily; his acid green shirt striking a discordant note in the wash of gray shades that made up the color scheme in the room. Rhade is sitting still and straight, next to Harper. He fits in well with his surroundings in a black sweater and pants. His dark eyes are alert. Beka sits on the other side of the table, hiding a yawn behind her hand. Her blond hair is tousled and her black tee shirt wrinkled.

“So?” Dylan asks sharply. “What’s Tyr up to?”

Harper shrugs. “I don’t know Boss. He was more interested in what you were doing when I talked to him.”

“What do you mean, Harper?” Dylan narrows his eyes thoughtfully and then nods to himself. Of course, Tyr would want to know what he is doing. He knows exactly what Tyr is likely do. Tyr probably thinks the same about him. After all, the two of them have closely observed each other for years.

“Just that he wanted to know what you had planned and the modifications we were making to the ship. He wanted to know if we figured out what to do with the Route of Ages thing.” Harper yawns and slouches deeper in the chair.

“So he doesn’t suspect.” Dylan smirks and leans back in his chair. So he is still several steps ahead of Tyr. He successfully obtained the Route of Ages after Tyr flubbed the job and he knows how to use it now, thanks to Trance.

“I guess not.” Harper’s eyelids droop lower.

“Beka, what did you find out?” Dylan turns his gaze on Beka and catches her yawning.

“He wants me to return to the pt. t. I think he trusts me.” Beka shrugs. “It wasn’t hard gaining his confidence.”

“Excellent work, people.” Dylan booms. He sweeps his assembled crew with a bright smile. “Rhade, Harper you’re dismissed. Beka, I need to go over a few items with you.”

TBC


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