Chapter 3

In the morning they had a quick breakfast of instant coffee and reheated frittata from Joza's kitchen. A light drizzle stopped as they packed up the camp, and good thing it did; Sol didn't want to spend all day listening to Remma complain about the damp.

They set out on a north-northeast heading, away from the outcrop and down onto the forest floor. Drops tended to happen along the paths of orbital satellites and shipping lanes, and tracking those paths was the easiest way to come across good scrap. Sol didn't have high hopes, but they would maximize their chances and hope for the best.

Nothing moved in the forest as they headed off. Remma murmured to himself for a while, the way he did, and then went silent. After an hour or so, he said, "I hear something."

Sol stopped and turned in a slow circle, listening. He didn't hear anything, which wasn't unexpected. Remma's hearing was a lot sharper than his own. "Which direction?" he asked quietly.

Remma listened for a moment, head cocked. Then he gestured with his arm toward six o'clock.

A chill went down Sol's back. Behind them—following them. A pinecat, or worse? Pinecats preferred to ambush from above…

He motioned to Remma to keep moving. Remma nodded and obeyed, towing the sledge behind him. Sol walked backward, rifle aimed toward whatever was on their trail, waiting for it to make itself known. There was no cover anywhere close, only trees and more trees. Climbing wouldn't help them if it was a pinecat. Or a bear.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Remma glancing back at him repeatedly. Sol waved a hand at him: Keep going. He didn't have any answers, but stopping wasn't a good idea.

They kept going. Nothing moved in the forest, not even birds; not even pine needles shifting in the breeze. The day was silent and still. Sol stepped carefully backward until his calves ached with it, straining his eyes for any sign of movement, but there was nothing.

After a while, Remma said, "I don't hear it anymore."

Sol blew out a hard breath. "Went a different way, you think?"

"Or stopped. Hard to say. I couldn't ever tell what it was. Just random noises."

"Okay." Sol exhaled again. "Fine. Let's keep going. Let me know if you hear it again."

They stopped briefly to scarf down some lunch. The wind shifted in the afternoon, turning east. As they walked, Sol heard nothing, and Remma didn't give any signal that he did, either. And then, through the trees ahead—a glint of metal.

"Might be a drop ahead," he said to Remma, his heart kicking with the anticipatory glee of it—that they might find something, that they might be able to help Loden and their colony.

"Good spotting," Remma said with warm approval that made Sol scowl. He didn't need or want Remma to think well of him. "A good one, I hope."

"Let's find out."

The crumpled remains of the shipping pod didn't look too promising at first, but they never did. The heat shield was charred and had split in a few places, but the contents were intact. Sol stood with his rifle at the ready while Remma crouched and opened the pod with a plasma knife. It was the size of two sledges side by side, and within was what looked to be a variety of computer chips of different sizes.

"Worth anything?" Sol asked.

Remma shrugged. "Could be. Let me check the stats." He rummaged around in the sledge and pulled out a hand reader. When he plugged in the first chip, he started grinning. "Yeah. We aren't rich, but these will buy a few odds and ends, I'll bet."

"Thank the stars. Loden will be so relieved."

"Should we head back right away, then? Might as well, if we've gotten what we came out for."

Sol shook his head. "No, we have the supplies to stay out for at least a week, so there's no real reason to head back. You never know what we might find."

"You're sure about that? It's always risky. Safer to just turn back now."

Sol considered it. It was true there had been something else in the woods with them earlier, but that was always a danger, and not one he gave much weight. He had a gun he knew how to use, and Remma's hearing would alert them to most trouble before it came to them. And the rewards, if they found another drop, were well worth the risk.

"Let's keep going," he decided. "I don't want to miss out on something good."

"Your call," Remma said. He turned aside and started packing the computer chips onto the sledge.

They buried the remains of the pod before they left. There were plenty of other scrappers out searching for drops, and it was best not to advertise your success to your competitors. Loden was cautious, and she'd raised Sol to be the same. He wasn't quite as cautious as she was, though. You couldn't be, to go out scrapping.

The day was growing short by the time they backfilled the last shovelful of dirt into the hole and covered the disturbed earth with pine needles. "Let's make camp," Sol said, mopping at his sweaty forehead with the hem of his shirt. "There's nowhere good near here."

Remma shook his head in agreement. "That pine grove we stopped at last time, with the spring. How far is that from here, maybe an hour?"

"Probably our best bet. Okay, let's head there." Sol wiped his face again. When he lowered his shirt, Remma was watching him. Sol raised his eyebrows in a wordless question. Remma shook his head again and looked away.

The light faded quickly as they walked. An hour was too far, really, but Sol pressed ahead. Otherwise they'd be camping in the open scrub. They'd done it before—sometimes there was no other choice—but it wasn't safe. Better to walk through the dusk than sleep all night with no shelter but the thin fabric of their tent.

"Turn five degrees northeast," Remma said, looking at the compass, and Sol made the shift.

Then there it was, coming at them through the gray forest, a dark shape on all fours.

"Remma," Sol said, low, in warning, and Remma stopped. They both watched as the bear came toward them and then stopped, too, as it saw them.

The bear looked as surprised as Sol felt. Its nose twitched. It lifted its head, then stood up on its hind legs to peer at them.

Adrenaline flooded Sol's body. He had never encountered a bear before, and for a moment, his panicked brain couldn't remember what to do. Then his training took over. "Hey, bear," he said, loud but not too loud, doing his best to keep his voice calm. He raised both arms above his head and waved them slowly. "We're just heading to our camp for the night. Not going to bother you."

Remma, watching him, began to wave his arms, too. "Hey, bear," he said.

The bear looked from Sol to Remma and back. It stayed where it was, towering above both of them, its ears swiveling.

"Nice evening for a walk," Sol said, just babbling, using the sound of his voice to show the bear—hopefully—that they weren't prey. "Out for a stroll, huh? Seeing the sights. Enjoying the weather."

"The miserable weather," Remma added in, and of course he was still able to crack jokes even when they were facing a predator that could easily take down both of them. Sol knew how bears ate their prey: intestines first, and without a care as to whether the creature was still alive. He didn't want to go out that way.

"Start walking sideways, Remma," Sol said, still waving. Remma was useless in a combat situation, but he was smart, and he would follow directions. "Maybe it won't attack us. Will you, good bear? You aren't hungry. You're just out for a walk."

The bear huffed. It dropped back onto all fours and took a few steps toward them. That was bad. Sol tried to master his shaky breathing, the hot panting in and out. Go away, go away, he thought silently, viciously in the bear's direction. Aloud he said, "We won't bother you. We're just heading on our way."

"Should we stop?" Remma asked.

"No. Keep going. Keep waving." Sol moved sideways, slow careful steps, and the bear didn't follow further. It watched them go, its ears twitching a few times. Then it kept going the way it had been, perpendicular to their path as they moved sidelong.

"Shit, it's leaving," Remma said, his voice low with relieved disbelief.

"Don't stop. Don't watch it go. Just keep coming this way," Sol said. His heart pounded in his chest. He'd never been more afraid, not even when facing down a furious mother pinecat.

They walked in that direction until Sol couldn't see or hear the bear. "You hear it?" he asked Remma, who shook his head. "Okay. Shit. Okay."

"We're safe," Remma said. "I think. Somehow."

"Somehow," Sol said. He stopped for a moment, feeling his body pulsing all over. "Then let's go make camp. I really need you to fuck me."

* * *

He didn't bother settingup the tent. Their sleeping bags tossed onto the ground were good enough. The air was cold, but Sol burned with heat and didn't want to waste time pitching the tent. He couldn't wait.

He had packed lube—shamefully, pretending it was just an oversight, that he'd left the bottle in his bag from their last trip. He dug it out of his bag now and tossed it on top of the sleeping bags, and gave Remma a defiant look. If he had something to say?—

But Remma didn't look like he had mockery on his mind. Sol could just barely see his expression in the last fading light. His eyes were black, black and intent as he watched Sol work. He looked hungry, if anything, and that was gratifying. He'd never turned Sol down yet.

Sol's hands were shaking. He was trembling, his body processing the terror of coming face to face with death. They hadn't died, though; they were still alive, and he wanted to revel in it, to feel the blood rushing through his veins and know he'd escaped. He wanted Remma on him and in him, making him feel alive.

"Zip the bags together," Remma said, and Sol did, hands clumsy on the zippers. Remma knelt beside him on the loam, and Sol could feel the heat of his body, the mass of him, impatience rolling off him in waves.

"Were you scared?" Sol asked.

Remma grinned, a flash of sharp teeth. "Yeah. Terrified."

"I thought we were both going to get eaten alive," Sol said, and leaned forward to kiss Remma's mouth, heedless of the teeth.

Remma cradled Sol's face in his hands and kissed him hard and deep. The tips of his claws slid into Sol's hair. His hands were so big. Sol was hit with a sudden sense-memory of their first time together, a late night in Remma's room after too much to drink, and the searing heat of Remma's huge hands dragging down the length of Sol's body. Sol had slept with men before, but Remma was in an entirely different category. The experience had been shocking, like a shock to the heart to bring someone back to life. He had already liked Remma so much—how competent he was without ever being conceited about it, the way he smiled at every one of Sol's jokes—and after that he had to work really hard to think about Remma as little as possible, because it was easy to see where those thoughts would lead him. Nowhere safe.

They undressed with frantic hands and crawled into the warm space of the sleeping bags. Inside, Sol reached down to feel for Remma's cock. There it was, sliding out already, the blunt tip hot and wet. Sol gripped it and gave a gentle squeeze. Hey there.

Remma's hands cupped his ass and pulled him close. One of Remma's thighs slotted between Sol's own and pressed against his cock. "Get yourself ready."

Sol's cheeks flushed hot. Yeah, he would have to, and with Remma right there and probably enjoying it. He groped around for the lube. There it was, shoved down toward the feet of the sleeping bags. He popped the cap and coated his fingers with a messy portion. There was no time for grace or modesty. Remma's hands parted his cheeks for him, and Sol's face burned as he reached back and stroked his fingers over his own hole.

It felt good, the pads of his fingers rubbing around and around, softening himself up. He pushed two fingers inside because why not. He wanted to get this over with and move on to the next part, the part where Remma was in him. But he couldn't resist lingering a little, rocking his fingers there, pressing deep.

"I wish I could do this for you," Remma said. He pushed his face against Sol's neck, the points of his teeth scraping gently right over the artery. "I wish I could feel your hot little cunt opening around my fingers. I'll have to settle for feeling it opening around my dick."

"It's not a—don't call it that," Sol said breathlessly. He took his fingers out to add some more lube. There was no such thing as too much lube when it came to fucking Remma.

"Why not? That's what it is. A sweet little pussy for me to fuck. What would you prefer? ‘Asshole' sounds so crude."

"I can't believe you think that's what's crude," Sol said. "Let's use the technical terms. Call it my anus."

Remma laughed against his neck. "That might work on me if I didn't speak your language as well as I do. But you're out of luck."

"Darn," Sol said. He pushed his fingers back in. That felt really—oh, stars. He wasn't going to last once he had Remma inside him.

Not that he ever did.

He could feel Remma's cock nudging at his belly, fully out now and hard as granite. Sol clumsily reached down with his free hand to press Remma's cock there, against his navel and even higher, imagining how deep it would be inside him in just a minute. Halfway to his throat, it always felt like. He shivered. Holy stars, it would be so good.

He probably wasn't quite ready, but—well, good enough. "Let's go," he said with a final pat to Remma's cock.

"You sure?" Remma asked, but his hands were on Sol's ass, kneading and squeezing. He wasn't going to argue too much.

Sol wriggled around until he was facing the opposite direction, his back to Remma's chest. Not his favorite position, but they didn't have enough room in the sleeping bags for anything better, and this would do well enough. He reached back to grasp Remma's hip and said again, "Let's go."

"You aren't usually this impatient," Remma said, which wasn't actually true at all. He sounded amused. One of his hands drew away, and then the head of his cock kissed Sol's hole, just a gentle touch for a moment before he flexed his hips and pushed in.

And that—oh, the slide of it, the thick searing pressure splitting Sol in two—he heard himself cry out. It was half pain and half ecstasy, and exactly what he needed.

Remma took less care with him than he usually did. He sank all the way in with a few sharp thrusts. The stretch made Sol groan and try to shift away, and Remma said, "Sorry, sorry," a soothing hand sliding down Sol's belly. "Sorry. I'm so worked up."

"Me too," Sol choked out. "Remma?—"

"Do you need to come? I'll take care of you." Remma's hand slid down to Sol's cock and wrapped around it. Sol flexed in his grasp, leaking and unbelievably hard. But he didn't want to come yet—he wanted to draw it out.

"Wait," he gasped, hand on Remma's wrist, and Remma stilled. "Not yet."

"You want to suffer, little one? That's your call." Remma sounded amused, which Sol hated, but Remma's cock was hard and hot and buried so deep inside Sol's ass he couldn't breathe, which sort of made up for it.

Remma moved inside him in short, hard thrusts, rocking deep. Despite the cold air on his face, Sol was sweating in the warm circle of Remma's arms. Remma's hand stayed on his cock, holding him loosely, and that little bit of friction as they moved together had Sol teetering on the edge, so close to falling over.

He fought it. He wasn't ready for this to end, because he didn't know when he'd be able to bring himself to ask for it again. There was always the shame of knowing how Remma saw him: just another interchangeable human hungry for a ride on a big dick.

"You feel so good," Remma murmured to him, teeth scraping the sensitive nape of Sol's neck. "Tight, wet. I'd have you every day if you weren't so skittish."

"I'm not—skittish," Sol managed, barely hanging on. Skittish wasn't the right word. Wary. Cautious. He was protecting himself as much as he could while still indulging in Remma's dick. Remma should thank him.

"You play so coy with me," Remma said. "Cold to me most of the time, and then you're at my door in the middle of the night, already slicked up for my cock. What am I supposed to make of that?"

"I—don't know," Sol said, the words jolted out of him by Remma's thrusts. It was strange to think of Remma considering his behavior in any way—noticing it, wondering about it to himself. He hadn't thought Remma took much note of him outside of their encounters. "I—Remma, let's talk about this some other time."

Remma's breath puffed against Sol's neck. "That's fair. I'm more interested in coming in you than talking."

"Are you going to—fill me up," Sol asked, flushing to think of it, Remma's spend deep in his guts, creamy white and flooding him. He wanted that almost more than he wanted to come himself. His cock throbbed in Remma's hand.

"I need you to come first. Milk it out of me."

Sol clenched involuntarily. Shit, shit, he was going to come just from Remma talking to him like that. "Remma?—"

"That's it." Remma's hand began to move in deliberate strokes along Sol's shaft. "I want to feel your asshole fluttering around me. There's nothing better. You get so tight. I wish I didn't ever have to come anywhere but inside you."

You don't have to, Sol wanted to say, but that was just his impending orgasm talking. But what would it be like—to have Remma come seek him out, to have Remma use his ass whenever he wanted? He couldn't say the thought didn't make him hot.

"Nothing to say, hmm," said Remma, somehow still running his mouth.

"You have enough to say," Sol said, "for both of us," and reached down to put his hand over Remma's. Enough of this nonsense. He wanted to come.

Remma stroked him off with slow pulls of his hand, but Sol was so close he didn't need anything more. His thighs tensed and he felt his back arching. Oh, he was almost there, that sweet sharp pulse of ecstasy throbbing in him, and then one last draw of Remma's hand brought him over. He shook and shuddered in Remma's arms.

"Good," Remma gasped, and filled Sol just as he'd promised he would.

It was exactly what Sol needed.