A new citizen for the Hegemony 3
After what Zal had endured, Turians keep giving
Commission for Anonymous
A New Citizen for the Hegemony 3
After what Zal had endured, Turians keep giving
“You need help?”
The question seemed genuine, just like the solicitation. And that offered arm wasn’t feigned, though Zal refused it with one hand.
“It’s fine. If I cling to your arm, it’ll be a sign of weakness, right?”
“Yes,” answered Cestus with a huff. Almost prideful.
Hence, even if Zal’s legs wanted to give out, the Quarian remained still and waiting. His lips had been painted in a light pink shade. His tattoos remained the same, with the Rannoch markings completed with his suave scarlet robe, the same robe Aisha prepared.
However, it had been modified to have a more ample front, easily covering Zal’s genitals from sight. However, his posterior remained slightly exposed, with the fat cheeks peeking through a bit.
And more than that, with the nipple rings added, the straps went through the rings, making Zal’s robe appear like a slutty showcase. But that… Cestus was already aware.
“Shoulders up. Straight back. Not a smile. Gaze ahead, be ready.”
Cestus’s tone was like that of an instructor preparing his soldiers for war. It felt as such for Zal as he looked to his ‘partner’. The fatty Turian had moved to an elegant blue suit, loose enough not to hug his belly but made to accentuate his broad shoulders, his collar, as well as his powerful arms.
He looked almost… Refined. And his silver medal was clean, once attached to a lapel that solely existed for such a purpose.
Then, with a harsh expression, Cestus advanced, reached for the door, and opened it.
Once open, there was a face Zal never wanted to oppose. A Turian, a female. An oddity among the population.
Her face was like that of her kind, like a chitinous mask. But her cheeks were gaunt, and her lips tighter. Even her eyes were naturally squinting, while her blue markings presented her as coming from Palaven, Cipritine exactly.
“Cestus.”
“Mother.”
The ambience was heavy, so much so that Zal almost desired to disappear as he stood put while the two exchanged the vows of hospitality among the family.
Initially, it was to be exchanged with the patriarch. But the Maravius was a strange family, and the matriarch metaphorically held everyone by the balls.
Even now, as she was done and turned to Zal, glanced at him, scanned up and down, then huffed before stepping away.
“Cestus. I count on you to be a great host.”
Followed then the father.
Compared to the matriarch, Cestus’s father looked way more approachable, even though his frontal crest was sharper and his traits even drier. Perhaps it was his smile, or the signs of wear and tear under his golden-painted chitin, or the brisk joy in his eyes.
He entered and instantly reached for a hug, embracing Cestus in his arms.
“My son! Finally! It has been a while!”
“It’s been one year, father,” mumbled Cestus, though he answered to the hug that held for a few seconds, with swaying.
Then, Cestus was let go, and his father approached Zal, a hand extended.
“Zal, is that right? You can call me Rectus,” said the older ‘gentleman’, reaching for Zal’s hand.
Zal shook it, a bit surprised, but smiled… Despite Rectus ogling his chest.
“A pleasure to meet you, Rectus. I will do everything to fulfill my duties as a host.”
“Oh. She knows how to please me. I am sure you will be a good addition to our family, Zal! Finally, our two boys are getting a Quarian… And two who look just as wonderful!”
Rectus’s chirping continued before he turned to the door, to the luggage Cestus was already bringing in.
“Cestus! Bring my luggage! I need to change out of my clothes! That spaceport doesn’t have any proper filter!”
“Yes, mother!” answered Cestus.
For a moment, Zal was struck with a revelation; why Cestus had been such a cunt. More so when Rectus nodded and added: “I will see the balcony. I need some fresh air.”
A controlling mother, a father who seemed to avoid said mother.
Zal considered it as he approached Cestus.
“I guess she already hates me,” mumbled Zal, passing a hand on Cestus’s shoulder.
“Hates you? If she didn’t scream at you, it means she likes you. Good job,” whispered Cestus.
Then, as Cestus continued to triage the luggage, setting them aside, he cried in surprise.
“Oh! You didn’t!”
“WHAT?!” shouted his Mother in return.
“You brought Senus? Are you serious?!” hollered Cestus in return. He was loud enough Zal had to cover his earholes. And Rectus returned from the balcony, a cigar in mouth.
“Yes. The vet said our old boy is stressing his brain when we’re missing. So we brought him.”
“In such a tiny carrier?! Come on, good boy. Come out. The place is big,” said Cestus, reaching for the tiny block of plastic that was used as a carrier. The Turian opened it, and a scalie muzzle popped out, with graying blue scales.
“Your mother didn’t want to pay a lot for his transport,” said the old Turian.
“But you… urgh. You could have told her it was not a good idea,” grumbled Cestus, still kneeling by the carrier and trying to beckon the pet to get out.
Zal observed as that nose popped back inside, then out. And then followed one Varren.
Black eyes, a whole fishy appeared with scales all over it.
However, its teeth seemed to have been trimmed.
A surprise for the Quarian while he watched the Varren get out… And Cestus was already praising the Varren, scratching his chin, scratching that back. And the fish-like beast answered in kind with purrs, snapping teeth, and a puppy-like attitude, though the creature was slow.
“Come here, Zal. Here’s Senus. I gifted him to my parents while I still lived on Palaven. He is a very good boy,” said Cestus, making signs for Zal to approach.
And Zal did, his knees trembling as he kneeled, and then approached a hand…
Yet, the reaction was for the Varren to snap its teeth at the fingers.
“Ouch.”
“He doesn’t like Fags and Quarians,” said Rectus, jumping in. “It’s not against you.”
Though it felt it was held against Zal, especially as he could feel the weight between his legs press against the fabric and the floor below. But did it matter to them? That he was a ‘Fag’ or a Quarian or even a living being?
Zal exhaled and wiped his robe as he stood up, carefully. Then, he turned to the kitchen, scoffing.
“I’ll check if everything is ready for our dinner.”
“Got it. Dad, can you take Senus on the balcony? I’ll bring him a bowl when I’m done with mother.”
Perhaps Rectus answered, or Senus was dragged to the balcony as asked. But Zal was already getting too far and focused on the meal, on the rules ahead.
Rules he was to follow.
Rules he followed during the tense dinner.
All sat at the table, except for Senus, who’d been kept on the balcony with a bowl of fresh water and a slab of planetside-grown meat. Cestus and Zal were on one side of the rectangular table, Rectus on the other side. And Cestus’s mother, Calipinia, sat at the head of the table.
Again, it was to be Rectus. But Calipinia wouldn’t have it any other way. Neither would she take off the Officer outfit she had brought from Palaven and worn at the table. Compared to Zal’s slutty and exposed outfit, Calipinia looked like a model of the perfect Turian wife.
In return, the Quarian did everything not to glance too much at the Matriarch, surprised by the naturally dire traits.
“This is adequate,” commented the Matriarch once she’d taken one bite of the rib-eye steak Zal had seared. Before that, she’d been silent while enjoying the root mash or the salad Zal prepared.
But here was Cestus’s mother, wiping her mouth while keeping her dignified attitude.
Zal’s answer? He nodded and blurted a “Thank you” before he felt a foot nudge him.
“It is my pleasure to know this meal is adequate to your taste, head of the family.”
There was a glimmer in Calipinia’s eyes, then she returned to cutting her meal with the meat knife.
Rectus? Well, he was nursing a glass of wine Cestus happily refilled.
“When Cestus told me he found a Quarian wife, I was surprised,” began Calipinia. And from Rectus’s expression, war was about to start. “How could my son desire a Quarian when we have many young ladies at home ready to embrace the Maravius name. Would he be wasting his time with a whore found on Rannoch’s surface?”
Already, the words were harsh, and Zal held onto the hems of his robe. He’d been warned and yet.
“I saw documentaries of your slums. Districts where Quarians are living despite the Hegemony’s generosity. So… My confusion was, had he done the unthinkable and done it to spite me? He would have raised a whore instead of following my good counsel?”
Even the whore had the r marked, and Zal could feel the glance upon him.
“But no… It was worse. I heard you were a male, once. If it applies to Quarian. I thought then you were like my husband, a spineless creature.”
Zal controlled himself, though even Cestus was tense. And Rectus, oh, he looked away.
“No. You are not a spineless creature. Because you managed to wrangle Cestus to wear something proper for the day, this takes talent,” said Calipinia, waving her fork at Zal. “No. You must be like a pet for him. Valued enough, Cestus would dare to act on your behalf.”
“Mother!”
“He never enjoyed the ladies that were sent his way. The line of suitors was always ready for him, but he refused them. One day, I even offered him the freedom to entertain a relationship with another male as long as he properly got married.”
“Mother, this is enough.”
“But he flat out refused. And instead of facing his responsibilities. What did he do? Leave for this isolated world, far from civilization.”
Zal winced again, but looked down. At his untouched plate. Mandibles clicked in disapproval.
“Yet. He found you. Former male, admitted to the Quarian rehabilitation program after your ID was flagged. You were then assigned to my son. Did you do it for him?”
“Mother. This is not an interrogation.”
“He is right, Calipinia. They are our hosts. There is no need to ask about their private information like that.”
“Rectus. You have let one of our sons rot and become a shame to our family. It is only through a proper marriage that the name Maravius can be maintained. We are lucky your brother has found a partner, Cestus. But we need to make sure ‘Zal’ is ready to embrace the duty to become part of this family.”
“My brother?” scoffed Cestus. “He is also dating a Quarian. If the name is so important, why isn’t he here with his ‘wife’ to answer your questions, too?”
“This is not about him. Moreover, he is currently fulfilling his duties to the Hegemony.”
“Calipinia, please.”
“This is also about him. When I say I have a Quarian wife, suddenly this is a horror. But when he does, this is perfect? During our meetings, you never once mentioned his wife’s ‘status’. No. It is all praise for him, Mother. But Zal-“
“Zal is your wife,” cut in Calipinia, after chewing a tiny bit of her steak. “In virtue of your history, it is even a boon that I deign to talk to her. But evidently, Zal is evidently a pretty pet you trained. You taught that Quarian to dance, yap, bark, and then that’s it? Pitiful. But you have my blessing, for what you care.”
Cestus’s mandibles clicked, but he was at a loss for words.
Even Rectus was looking away, his eyes open wide and trying to act like he wasn’t there.
And Zal? Oh, he was under the scrutiny of Calipinia. Should he remain silent, the berating would continue. But speaking? Acting out? Shouting? And for what? For his own pride, broken and tattered for weeks now. Or on behalf of Cestus?
Zal trembled, closed his eyes. Exhaled. And then… Turned to see Calipinia, eye to eye. To see the predatory glare and face it.
“It is evident you have a low opinion of me, head of the family. I do not think it is appropriate for a Turian to display such a spiteful side at a family reunion as important as a betrothal. Especially when they are facing the consequences of their actions.”
A click from Cestus, even a gasp from him. And Rectus’s eyebrows raised.
But Calipinia... didn’t seem to react except for one word: “Elaborate.”
For once, Zal felt like he could stand up, and he did. His heartbeat was fast, and he could see Cestus’s glare. But Zal raised a hand, palm up.
“When I encountered Cestus, I had a similar opinion of him. I considered him despicable and cruel, incapable of feeling empathy towards me. He acted out, peevish, prone to outbursts.”
Zal took a long breath, hand to his chest.
“In many ways, he has faults. But he is capable of learning. He showed me he could improve on his own volition. He can be better if he is given the option and freedom to do so. No, he can be better if he is encouraged. Still, he… Wounded me, clearly.”
There is a movement from Cestus, a shuffle.
“But I can hope he improves, he holds up his word, and that he proves to me the virtue of the Turians. From what I can see, he has never been given the chance to improve. You never gave Cestus the chance to improve. He needs not your blessing in words. And I, his pet, certainly does not need yours.”
A stunned silence remained. At least from Rectus and Cestus. Zal sat down, even managing to bring Cetus to sit as well.
And there was the remaining silence.
Calipinia didn’t act, then she joined her hands before her face. Thoughtful.
“The speech lacks structure. You are presuming and employing assumptions as a base for your arguments. And there is an underlying issue if he wounded his wife, like you said. However, you are not lacking passion, nor are you wrong about my opinion on Cestus. Indeed. You need not my blessing,” said Calipinia, uncrossing her hands. “Cestus. You would be advised to keep Zal at your side. For your improvement and her protection.”
There was even a feigned smile from the Matriarch before she raised her chin.
“But do not think this is a sign I accept your indiscretion, Quarian. Understood?”
Zal nodded, and Calipinia’s answer was another nod.
The dinner remained tense, but there was no berating. Even Rectus seemed to relax on the drinking. Zal even took a few bites despite his trembling hands before Calipinia stood up, nodded, and told them that she was leaving for the evening.
The reason why? It wasn’t announced, but Cestus and Rectus did not peep a word. They nodded, watched her take her leave.
And only once, when the door to the apartment locked and her steps turned silent, did they exhale.
“Spirits, Zal… That was crazy and stupid of you,” mumbled Cestus, pushing the plate aside and leaning on the table, holding his head.
Even Rectus reached for his pocket, ready for another smoke.
“First time a suitor stood up to her. I thought she’d be cutting your throat,” added Cestus’s father, huffing. “You got balls, though.”
“I-“ started Zal, holding on to his throat. “I don’t know what took over me. I felt I had to answer and tell her to stop.”
“That’s the first time someone dared to,” mumbled Cestus, his head between his crossed arms. “I thought you were gone for. Like, she’d use the fish knife on you.”
“Pfhh. As if. No, she’d wait for you to sleep and cut your throat.”
Zal gulped again, trembling.
“But she wouldn’t do that. Maybe she likes you,” said Rectus as he stood up and grabbed his chair under the arm. “Let’s continue that discussion on the balcony. No point in staying here. And Senus must miss you, Cestus.”
Senus wasn’t missing them dearly, since he was fast asleep on the balcony. But once the two Turians brought the three chairs, with Zal following along with a trembling gait, the Varren woke up… Yawn. It watched, then, Rectus sitting, and it joined him.
Though Zal’s eyes were on the older Turian, who, before sitting down, undid his belt, threw it aside, opened the front of his pants, and… Sat with his junk out.
Clearly, Zal knew where Cestus’s size came from.
“Ah. Yes. That’s good. Go on, do the same, Cestus,” grumbled Rectus, sighing and airing his cock out while Cestus imitated him, his mandibles clicking.
Of the two? Perhaps Cestus was slightly larger by one inch, or possibly more. But the scent coming from Rectus was strong enough to titillate the Quarian’s nose. Plus, that shaft was evidently more wrinkled and had some dark spots along the exposed foreskin.
A vision marked by those low-hanging testicles dangling from the edge of the chair. A vision that made Zal focus, gulped… And elicit a laugh from Rectus.
“It’s his first time seeing a Turian cock, son?” asked Rectus, ending with a sarcastic laugh.
“N-No,” mumbled Zal, trying to sit and look away. Though his fluster was obvious, practically written in red on his face. “In Quarian society, we never see our in-laws naked.”
“Oh… It’s not the case in Turian society either,” said Rectus, chuckling. “You got some beer in store for your old Turian?”
“Yes. Zal, go fetch us two beers.”
Zal’s fluster disappeared enough to glare at Cestus. But still, the Quarian walked forward, the steps careful, towards the kitchen and took two root beers from the pack Cestus got earlier.
Still exposed, Zal watched the two Turians talk as if it were normal.
Even if they had their junk out and were talking about Quarian's curves.
“I get why you prefer Zal. Calipinia is a flat board compared to your Quarian.”
“I know, Dad. But you should know there are a lot of whores in the district. If you’ve got credits, you can fuck them. Or marry them with a request to the local administration.”
“Fuck… Really? You know, it might not be so bad. I was miffed to be taken out of my job for that trip, you know how it’d be. But if I can have a hole to fuck… It might be great,” chuckled Rectus, taking a puff and turning to Zal. “Not bad, uh?”
“Not bad?”
Zal blinked, holding out the beer. Rectus took it and opened with his teeth before spitting the cap beyond the handrail.
“Our dicks. Cestus told his brother and me you loved Turian dicks and couldn’t spend your day without one.”
“… Is that so?” asked Zal, raising an eyebrow and turning to Cestus, who looked away, flustered.
“Oh yes. He told me how he recruited you at first. I didn’t want Calipinia to ask. But you were right to bet on the big Turian cocks,” laughed Rectus, taking a chug and chuckling.
Well, here was the crass part of Cestus.
“I… Might have forgotten a bit about the circumstances,” said Zal, trying to be calm and collected despite a tense jaw. “Cestus… if you could remind me?”
Again, the same attitude as Cestus, coughing in his clenched fist and smiling.
“I… Explained how you often sucked my cock under the desk and… How you recently accepted to become a Quarian wife. You couldn’t resist it, after all.”
More coughs, though Rectus seemed not to care; he was leaning to stroke Senus’s head, ignoring how close his own head was to everyone’s groin, especially Zal.
“Oh… Yeah. That’s right, buddy, you want good scratches. You need good scratches,” baby-talked Rectus before he looked up. “That’s good, though you finally accepted the marriage proposal. We need a strong-headed wife in the family. But did it hurt?”
Zal blinked for a second while Cestus raised his hand, smacking his father’s thigh.
“I told you not to ask. That’s a sensible topic!”
“But it’s important. I mean… You cannot hope for your old Turian to ignore this!”
Plus… It wasn’t like that old Turian’s shaft wasn’t betraying his interests. It wasn’t hard, but engorged enough for the wrinkled foreskin to pull back. But there was so much of it, it was clear anyone worshiping Rectus would have to tug and pull on the foreskin.
And… Well, Zal forced a smile.
“It did hurt—a lot,” he said, serious.
“Awh. But you did it for Cestus? That’s great! And you look great! Especially with the implants and all. Can I touch?”
“Dad.”
Still, it didn’t stop Rectus from advancing a finger despite a huff from Cestus… And Rectus’s hand was right on Zal’s right breast, fondling it, digging into it.
For a second, Zal remained stunned and pleased. But then, he pulled back, and Rectus did the same.
“The real thing,” chuckled the old Turian, moving his thumb like he was still stroking. “You are lucky, son. You have the real deal. If it were me, I would’ve been fucking an Asari, but they’re rare in our territory.”
“That’s normal, they’re levo like humans. Even the Krogans.”
“Yes, the meatiest are all on the other sides except the Quarians. But when I was your age, the Quarians fags were not available. We heard about it and all… Oh yeah, Fag is not a problem for you? It’s the official term, but people at home think it can be pejorative.”
Zal blinked, then turned to Cestus, who shook his head, saying no.
“No. It’s… Fine?”
“Great! I was trying not to use it, you know, to be respectful of my Son’s wife. But if you are fine with Fag, I’ll call you like that,” laughed Rectus, leaning forth to pat Zal’s thigh. “And if you want to be more comfortable, you can. Without Calipinia around, you are allowed to be naked.”
Zal again turned to Cestus; this time, the Turian’s mandibles clicked anxiously. What other lies did Cestus feed to his parents?
“It’s up to you, Zal. I mean, you can do whatever you want.”
The more Zal glanced at Cestus, the more he saw the Turian for what he had done: he’d fed them lies but never divulged to Zal their content. Never told him the slutty and deviant image he’d given to Rectus or Calipinia.
And Rectus, oblivious as he was, seemed perfectly fine with what Zal was showing. Yet, at the same time, Calipinia seemed to have been kept in the dark about the juiciest details.
It all hinted there was another type of relationship between the Dad and Son. Plus, the way Rectus praised Zal and looked at him with envy?
The Quarian had a thin smile, standing up with Rectus ogling that presented posterior.
“No, Rectus is right after all,” said Zal with a hint of malice. “Please. Father-in-law, could you help me with my robe?”
Cestus was about to blurt something, but Rectus dropped the beer and mumbled a “Sure thing, Fag” on the second.
And for an old Turian, Zal found Rectus to be quick. Quick to act, to react. And assuredly, to fondle Zal when given the opportunity. His fingers were just like Cestus’s, just as hungry, just as needy, just as prompt to dig into Zal’s meaty breasts and sides.
Just like with Arcturus, Pelagius, and Cestus… Rectus’s touch was pleasant. Delicious even as the old man circled those nipples while his half-hard cock stroked the insides of Zal’s thighs, while the robe dropped.
“Here we go, Fag. If you want anything.”
“Well, now that you think about it,” said Zal, checking over his shoulder to notice the fuming Cestus. “I’d like you to give me your opinion on my new… Set.”
Oh, the set.
The day Zal came back after the surgery, Cestus had spent the day fondling and touching it. It seemed father and son were no different in that aspect when Zal turned to face Rectus.
The old Turian’s eyes were all over Zal’s body, his tongue licking his lips while he checked Zal’s tits, the erect and pierced nipples, the generous waist, the slightly fatty belly. Oh, and sure, those genitals.
Zal’s cock remained small and tiny with the operation, though the traces of his birth could be noticed by the way his urethra looked swollen at the cocktip.
But the most eye-catching details were the Quarian’s testicles, the size of oranges. It wasn’t possible to see it from the front, but there was a long healed scar on the backside of the scrotum.
A scar Rectus touched while guided by Zal. All the while, the Quarian sat on the old Turian’s lap, but with his legs spread to expose and show Cestus his ass.
“See. I recently got my old testicles removed. Not that I had many choices,” said Zal with a bit of spite. “I got those fakes, however. They can produce lube continuously, and squeezing them is delectable. Plus, they have a chip for remote control and other little advantages.”
“Oh oh. That’s great. I heard fake balls were on the market. But you paid a lot for this, Cestus,” said Rectus, visibly excited as he continued to touch those testicles, his cock rubbing against Zal’s thighs, grinding with an increased intensity.
“Yeah, Da-”
“It was more of a friend who did this for me,” cut in Zal, passing a hand between Rectus's legs, touching that hard and rigid cock, feeling the throb through it. Feeling that blood rushing, while Rectus seemed quite jovial and excited.
“Oh. Is that right? A friend did this for you?”
“A very good friend,” said Zal, lying through his teeth while seeing Rectus stew in his frustration. But also enjoying it, his cock getting hard.
“But… That’s not what matters. Because we have an arrangement with Cestus.”
“We do?” blurted Cestus and then stuffing. “I mean, yes, we do.”
Rectus didn’t seem to have noticed the surprise. No, the old man was too enthralled.
“Yes. We have one. Though I am Cestus’s ‘Fag’, I can fuck my friends. And you could be one of those friends, Rectus.”
“Oh… Oh… Ohoh. You want a part of that old Turian? I am married, you know.”
However, his tone clearly revealed that he wanted this to happen. And his grinding was starting to grow in intensity, as much as his boner that was dripping on the floor.
“Zal.”
“We are family. It wouldn’t hurt anyone if we did this. Cestus, what do you think?”
Cestus was fuming, his mandibles clicking. But then… He had his own smile.
“Sure. But if you’d be kind to please Dad with your mouth. I am your husband, first.”
Zal frowned, seeing how Cestus seemed eager… And something at the back of the Quarian told him he’d pushed too far. But Zal smiled then, nodding.
“Sure. I can certainly have a turn with daddy’s dearest, Cestus. His cock looks so juicy and appetizing, too.”
“Oh, yeah. Son, you know how to pick your Fag.”
Rectus’s lecherous attitude was as bad as Cestus's in the beginning, lest the constant berating. Perhaps a positive aspect as Zal leaned forward, pressing his lips against Rectus’s lips, kissing and sampling the taste of smoke, saliva, wine, and root beer. A mix that was perhaps exciting as Zal was giving in to the heat… To his asshole, already warming up, lubricating, and oozing with translucent fluid.
A musky fluid Cestus did not seem to mind as he approached, smacked Zal’s ass, and yanked Senus away.
“Sure, you are fine. I'll borrow your wife, Son. You won’t get mad if she prefers your old turian like your previous girlfriends.”
“Oh no. I know she’ll prefer me, Dad.”
Certainty was oozing from Cestus’s words.
But if Zal noticed that, Rectus took it in stride, with a hearty laugh and a smack on Zal’s shoulder while the Quarian continued to descend.
“Ah, sure sure! She’ll prefer your brother, then!”
There… Cestus repeated his words, and so Rectus repeated himself, revealing how Cestus had had a bad experience with other partners. Maybe that was why he had such a misogynistic vision, too? But it was also curious how Rectus and Cestus’s brother acted.
All in all, Zal was getting a better view of the family dynamic…
And a better view of Rectus’s endowment.
The Turian was evidently older since his perfume was stronger. The chitin above was clearer, too. The wrinkles on the skin were more pronounced. But at the same time, that vision tickled Zal’s brain in a new, novel way. Especially as he approached his nostrils to the cock and the perfume shifted, became heavier to the mind. No, almost heavy on his thoughts.
It was like a drug, something Zal got high on while he pressed his face against the older Turian’s groin. He huffed, inhaled, salivated, too, while the two were still arguing above.
They could argue. Zal didn’t mind, didn’t bother. Instead, he reached for Rectus’s cock. He had his fingers pushing slightly against the base, feeling the leathery scrotum, then pushed the cock upward. He tried it until the tip no longer pointed down… And then, with his careful fingers, Zal began to peel the foreskin off.
With it, precum and grease started to drip in a musky cascade on his hands, though, again, no traces of the ‘jelly’ at worst. That shaft was ‘clean’. Just enough for Zal to admire the throbbing flesh and hear that laugh: “Yeah, I didn’t wash up before seeing you two.”
Zal didn’t mind. Instead, he leaned forward and gave that cock a shy lick. The taste was close to Cestus’s fluid, though it had a familiar hint Zal couldn’t figure out. Even then, he gave another lick. And another. His mouth soon became restless in collecting that precum and slight urine that had been sticking to Rectus’s cock. And in return, that shaft was starting to go erect, grow bigger, get longer. It was starting to ascend and escape Zal’s reach.
That cocktip pointed up, upward, with precum dripping along the length and falling on Zal’s face like a waterfall or rain. Ever then, the taste was pleasant, and Zal opened his mouth wide, collected the fluid. Then, he tried to ascend, to rub his tongue along the cock’s underside.
Even Zal’s asshole was starting to heat up. No, worse. Even his tits were filling up from the hormonal load he was getting from worshiping and tasting that old stud. His entire body was at unrest. His hands were quivering, and so were his legs. And yet, Zal craned his neck as if he wanted it. Yes. Somehow, he wanted it. The promise of that thick Turian cock was getting him crazy, just like with Cestus.
It was getting hard to refuse Cestus’s presence, to refuse him any favor… And with Rectus, it was practically the same drive that hit Zal… The same yearning as he was gasping for air and for that cock stench until…
“Huff!”
The sudden weight on Zal’s back surprised him. For a moment, the Quarian’s eyes widened as he guessed what it was. Was it Cestus? No, it was too small. But what could it be?
It was cold, scaly… And something wet and slippery rubbed against Zal’s backside, against his asshole.
Then, the scent hit him, and the realization followed.
“Keelah,” mumbled Zal, though he knew what he was and heard the yap.
“Cestus? Seriously. You’d ruin her for that?”
“Ruin her? Dad. Senus is family, too. Sure, Zal wouldn’t mind sharing it with the family?”
Cestus’s tone was malicious, but Zal? Oh, he forced a smile on his face and gritted his teeth while turning his head, enough to see Cestus but not enough to face the Varren.
“Oh no. I am sure that Varren will be a good partner. You can learn, Cestus,” answered Zal with a jab.
A jab he regretted when Cestus smacked Zal’s posterior.
“Good enough. Go on, Zal. Show Dad and Senus how Quarians take it!”
“If you say so,” said Rectus, his erection a bit dwindling.
But as the old Turian pushed his cock down and scooted back, he had his shaft practically at Zal’s lips. There. That cock was hard again, throbbing, erect, needy… It spurted precum all over Zal’s face since he wasn’t swallowing it all. Soon enough, the liquid was all over Zal’s face, dripping from his brows and into his nostrils while the young Quarian advanced, crawled closer despite the Varren’s weight, and ushered that greasy, old, wrinkly shaft inside his mouth.
The flavor? It was good. Excellent. More than that, there was the pleasure coming from his throat bulging and his tongue crushed underneath the cock.
Cock that delivered quite the hefty dose of precum right onto Zal’s tongue, flooding his throat and esophagus, filling him… Filling him with what that dinner couldn’t: satisfaction and pleasure.
A delight the Quarian experienced by closing his eyes and steadying his breathing. It was a moment to savor, a flavor intense that was so close to Cestus’s yet different, yet titillating…
A pleasure Zal took in as that shaft slipped further and further, bulging through his throat while, above, Rectus huffed and mumbled.
“Fuck… She can swallow.”
“All Quarians are trained for that, Dad. They’re better than the girls back home for that,” chuckled Cestus, smacking something.
And then, Zal heard a growl by his earholes, tongue and jaw snapping. Then, as if on cue, that thing that was slimy and rigid against his ass moved like it was prehensile. And it was… That cock, that blue-blooded cock was wiggling against Zal’s asshole. It poked, delivered slime all over the swollen donut.
But after the Varren found it was useless… That prehensile cock slipped inside, thrust inside Zal, and filled him with that long length that practically ended in a knot.
The Varren snarled, without a doubt, and those hips humped the air and Zal’s sides, though there was no need for more. Zal’s asshole was plainly open, practically a crater after taking Cestus in the ass so many times. And the Varren, as big as it was, was comparably small. Small, all except for that knot that slammed against Zal’s back entrance.
The Quarian felt that knot, warmer than the cock itself but much colder than the cock he was swallowing…
Much colder than the cum-churning and warm testicles smacking against Zal’s chin… Or even that base that was rubbed against his nostrils, of that soft skin covered with sweat that smeared sweat all over Zal’s face and into his nose.
Turian smell was getting much addictive. Much more than Zal expected, much more than the Quarian could endure.
But it was so soothing, so pleasant, so satisfying to smell.
And Zal… Zal was starting to feel the itch to suck one cock or take one if he hadn’t done so during the day. A heat that gave him no respite, no satisfaction, not even from the toys Cestus brought from that store and sometimes used him.
That addiction. It was possibly the most potent weapon the Turians had over the Quarians. The strongest poison.
And yet, Zal was eagerly chugging that Turian precum, that juice, while sucking on an elderly’s cock. He could have been disgusted. Before, he would have been retching from the image of sucking an old Turian while mounted by a Varren.
But here? With that cock bulging through his throat and that Varren knot hammering against his asshole? Zal was feeling great. Good. Satisfied even.
Pleased, too, as that knot smacked against his entrance, he kept clenching and closing to amplify the sensations from the Varren’s cock. But if he opened entirely, relaxed his sphincter, there was no doubt that the knot could go in and out without restraint.
No… That Varren could use that knot to fuck Zal. And once the Quarian relaxed his asshole… The beast did use that knot.
The Varren, all weighing on Zal, humped frenetically, though it didn’t need to. From the tip to the base of the knot, that entire shaft was prehensile. And though the movements were frantic and without much control of exercise, it was still a tempting experience for Zal, who felt his prostate squeezed… And in return, some translucent, odorless juice dripped from his cock in a simili orgasm.
Nothing fancy, nothing big. Nothing like an explosion or a cry. It was just a jet, one coming from that knot slipping inside and pulling on that rim.
But that cock, for all its qualities and purpose, was one of a beast. One that wasn’t thinking about keeping his stamina or edging or whatever. That Varren was horny, excited, needy. And so, as it continued to hammer Zal’s prostate, the creature began to whimper and moan.
Above, the two Turians were speaking, but the whine drowned the sounds while Zal endured the thrusts, the small orgasms… And the scratchings.
That Varren wasn’t a kind lover, either. And the creature whined while trying to thrust again, even if it didn’t mean anything.
It cried, too, while the hind legs left marks on Zal’s thighs.
And in the end, as the Quarian was still choking on Rectus’s cock, feeling that precum thicken and form blobs in the cock’s underside, Zal felt… Cum.
Warm, hot, sticky. Definitely cum that was pumped inside his ass from the Varren. And above all, in an amount that was ample enough to weigh on Zal’s guts.
The Quarian’s belly, as fattened as it was, was starting to drop. Another change from the hormones and constant filling was how Zal’s body could endure such abuse. His belly, once filled with cum, could look positively gravid and then be emptied without much loss.
And though that Varren was quite fertile and well endowed, capable of pumping a hefty dose of cum inside Zal’s guts, it did practically nothing to bother Zal. No, it was nothing compared to the fucking they’d done with Cestus the day before.
And though his asshole looked ruined when the Varren pulled back with whimpers, Zal was perfectly capable of closing his sphincter and halting the cum flow, bringing it to a stop and with a minimal puddle forming between his legs as he got a hand onto his posterior, pushing against it, digging into it… And not without giving Cestus’s the finger.
The Turian tried to mess with Zal, but it did nothing. It did not hurt, it did not break him, it did nothing that Zal hadn’t endured or worse.
He would have even laughed if it weren’t for the sheer shame he’d experience in doing so… or the fact he was choking on Cestus’s Dad’s cock.
A poor, pitiful satisfaction that would not undo the hours and days of humiliation.
Satisfaction that remained, plastered on Zal’s traits, until a hand locked on Zal’s head, yanking him away.
“I’ve got an idea, Dad.”
Idea. The mere word was tingling Zal’s mind the wrong way as he opened his eyes wide and glanced at Cestus. The Turian had that wide, almost predatory, familiar smile. He was in for another of his silly but perverted ideas as he pulled Zal from Rectus’s shaft.
“What’s that idea? Not something stupid, I imagine?”
“It’s better than most of my ideas,” said Cestus, finally releasing Zal’s throat… But not without letting Zal see it… See Cestus’s erection practically against his cheeks before Cestus lowered himself, smacked Zal’s ass, then lifted the Quarian off the ground to have him lean against his chest.
For a second, Zal thought Cestus would drop, since it was an effort beyond the fatty Turian’s typical stamina. But no. Cestus endured the effort and sat down with Zal on his thighs, with the Quarian facing Rectus.
Zal’s legs were lifted, spread, and certainly… His asshole was wide open, dripping with Varren cum and natural lube.
“What about giving my wife a double Turian welcome? What do you think?” asked Cestus, his cock rubbing against Zal’s entrance. That mast was warm, burning even… And it was perfect as Zal bit his lips…
And bit his lips more while feeling Rectus’s cocktip, covered with throatslime and saliva, poke at his swollen asshole.
“She can take it?”
“Sure, she can take it. You want it, Zal?”
Though it was practically impossible to see it, Zal was crosseyed on those two shafts presenting themselves to his asshole, which, from the current posture, presented a vertical split. A welcoming and vertical split that practically begged those shafts.
“Yes.”
“If you can, Dad.”
Zal bit his lips and watched. He huffed, gasped, moaned, cried, even craned his neck and bit his tongue.
All the while, Rectus inserted his long cock inside Zal’s depths, into his asshole that had been fucked so much, trained so much, it was practically the Quarian’s main source of pleasure.
He could enjoy everything now. But getting that thick Turian cock? It was wondrous. And feeling another cocktip of the same caliber press against his swollen rim? It was a dream. A delight. An impossibility.
Zal cried.
Oh, he cried. So loud that other Turians were coming out to see what was happening, only to notice a Quarian getting fucked by two Turians. From the curves and vision, most would assume it was a female getting taken on both sides.
But Zal wasn’t a female. His male genitals were still there. And therefore, it was his asshole that was getting stretched beyond common measure. His asshole that was feeling the echoing throbs of two studs fucking him.
His asshole that was fucked in tandem, with Rectus pulling back ever so slightly to give Cestus more room to thrust in before the opposite happens.
The wail was waking up the district, but did Zal care? Not at all.
Did Cestus care? Oh no, he was laughing and chuckling.
Did Rectus care? Well, he was still chugging his beer and smoking while going into town inside Zal’s ass, fondling and playing with Zal’s ass and tits.
Words and remarks were exchanged, including criticism and mocking jabs.
But they flew all over Zal as he was getting… ravaged. Ravaged like no other time before. Not even with Arcturus’s fist or cock, with the time Pelagius inserted two toys, or even Cestus used the whole toy shop to ruin Zal’s body thoroughly.
It was… Completely different.
And though Zal was again crying, heaving, huffing, and gasping. He was happy. So happy.
Why? Because he was satisfied. Why? Because Turians stuffed him. Why was it so good? He couldn’t tell. Only that he was feeling that intense joy… And didn’t want to get over. Not even when Rectus ejaculated inside him. Not even when it was Cestus’s turn.
His asshole clenched tightly and firmly on them, attempting to stop them from pulling back.
He even threw his face as Rectus, forcing him into a kiss… And the same was for Cestus. He even gripped the hands to have them fondle his breasts, pinch his nipples until they lactated.
He craved for it… And wanted for more… He would want more.
That hunger would remain. Always. Forever in that moment.
And it remained the moment Zal blinked, feeling his body pressed against something warm.
Chitinous, rigid, present. Zal’s sore limbs moved, though the experience was comparable to swimming in a sea of bed sheets. There was much weak kicking, much dissatisfied grunting, and even some gasps while the Quarian’s reflex was to squeeze himself away.
“What are you doing… Zalbitch?” moaned that familiar voice.
“Going back… To my bed,” mumbled Zal.
He was practically resting atop Cestus’s chest. The large and chubby Turian was certainly a wide-enough pillow for a Quarian to recline on. Plus, the added cushion made the whole body far more cuddly than Zal presumed from the chitin, crest, collarbone, and osseous growths.
On the other hand, Zal was oddly and completely aware of Cestus’s cock that was between his legs, of that pole that was soft, luckily enough, but there. Same for those stinky and already sweaty poles stuck between the Quarian’s legs, forcing him to keep his legs apart, otherwise he'd kneed those nuts.
“My parents. Are here,” grumbled Cestus, poking the side of Zal’s head with his index finger before patting him on the shoulder. “Stay.”
Zal blinked.
He was aware of his situation. A glance left and right, and he saw suits had been hung on the nearby wardrobe. Even his latest robe was dangling from the rack, clean. A different situation for Zal as he was feeling sticky, musky, sweaty, and worse. His body was covered with the same substance he always was when Cestus had his way, had his way with the heat.
“Stay.”
“I was gonna stay,” mumbled Zal, closing his eyes and dropping back against Cestus, no longer pushing with his arms and legs. If he were to stay stuck, he could make the most of it. The aroma from Cestus was strong, but palatable. Enjoyable. Not in a sexual way, but it meant something for Zal. Not security, far from it.
But stability. Though the situation could get worse or stranger, there was always that little lie about Zal’s previous life and how he could rebuild himself if they kept to the lie. Just long enough.
Soon, the breathing was calm. Collected.
And Zal felt himself slipping a bit. His body was sore, his asshole in particular. He remembered being taken in the ass by the two Turians, but after that? Blank.
“You had to seduce my Dad?”
The question came out of left field. A surprise for Zal, who opened an eye and closed it.
“How many more lies did you feed them?”
A grunt came… Zal sensed Cestus moving, shaking, and rolling until he grabbed something. Then, the distant sound from the television. The news, conveyed in a monotone voice.
“You could have told me. That and your relationship with your parents.”
The mandibles clicked.
“Like telling you he and my brother sabotaged my previous relationships. As if.”
“So what?” asked Zal, curling and twisting until he had his head practically on Cestus’s chest, but his body dropped on the side, letting him open his eyes.
It was sunny outside, and the day had already started for a little while now.
“So what? You played into it. You let him have his fun with you.”
Zal huffed, shaking his head while seeing the television screen, watching a map of the galaxy and how the Hegemony managed to push deep into the Salarian territory. At the same time, a bridge between Rannoch and the Hegemony was imminent.
“Are you… Considering it?”
“What?” said Cestus, turning his head. His brows were down, his mandibles clicking. And…
His expression tensed. He brought his hands closer, as if in a defensive position.
“You think we are a couple,” said Zal, blinking.
“… It’s been much better than most relationships,” answered Cestus after a few seconds of consideration and huffs.
“Much better?” said Zal, pushing on the bed. “You forced yourself on me.”
“It was legal. I could’ve done worse,” said Cestus, his eyes away. But as the silence remained. “But it wasn’t the best thing I’ve done.”
“No. You did worse, yes. You neutered me, too.”
“I-…”
“You were about to throw me to a motel to be raped by anyone who wants it.”
“…”
“And yesterday. I remember something about a Varren.”
Cestus’s mandibles clicked. His body twisted and turned until he had his back to Zal.
“Yeah. I thought we had something. But I was wrong.”
Zal watched that back, frowned… And then. He peeled the sheet from his body. The mere act was painful; even his arms were on fire. But much like before, the Quarian gritted his teeth and braced himself.
One foot down, and his entire leg trembled. Another, and he was sitting down, listening to the chatter about the impending arrival of a political shift in the local government, as well as the general pushback against pro-Quarian laws.
But nothing, not even a movement from Cestus, but from his breathing, he was waiting.
“Cestus.”
“Hrmph.”
“I know you’re sleeping,” said Zal. But the Turian didn’t move. And so, the Quarian sighed.
“What do you want? I’m a bastard and that’s it. You are not happy with your situation, I know. But yesterday, when you talked to my mother like that. I had a moment.”
Zal remained still, preferring to discuss the woes of their relationship rather than walk to the private bathroom attached to their bedroom.
“I thought, ‘maybe he doesn’t hate my guts. Maybe I’m right about hating my family and wanting them away. Maybe I was not crazy when I said they were toxic,’” grumbled Cestus.
“I didn’t lie.”
Zal turned when hearing the mandibles click. One eyebrow raised, and there was Cestus, starving for something. Respect?
“I wasn’t lying about you and your mother. Plus, I guess it applies to your father,” added Zal, tilting his head. “I get why you are so terrible. It makes me feel more empathetic toward you. I see why you acted that way. But… It is not like I can forgive you like that or forget. At most, I can have an understanding.”
Cestus’s expression shifted, hardened, then relaxed. The eyes opened wider, then he squinted.
“What do you mean?”
“Keelah,” said Zal, his head dropping. “I… Hate what you did to me. I hate the bastard who laughed and chuckled while I was losing my testicles! Same for the guy who’s been berating me. But it’s not all I feel about you, Cestus. To me… Can I be honest?”
“At that point, it’s better to get it out,” answered Cestus, though he seemed afraid.
Zal nodded, took a breath, and then turned his bust to Cestus.
“You are… Pathetic. Your mother crushed you; she made it her duty to fuck you up. And your father, he was speaking about making a cuck out of you, in front of you. You did not even raise your voice against them. No. I’m sure it is the same with your brother.”
Zal watched the Turian’s expression crumble, same as those eyes dropped.
“You are so pathetic, you took all your anger out on me. You berated me, you fucked me. And… I’m almost feeling lucky it’s the only thing you did to me!”
Zal’s hand even raised, while Cestus raised his head in surprise.
“What?”
“Yes, you heard me. You are terrible, Cestus. But you got better while we were together. But with what you were given, I’m lucky you were not worse. Although it makes me feel uncomfortable, I think you could be a good partner… Keelah. Most of what you thought about Quarians must have been taught by your mother and drilled into you by her.”
Finally, Zal shook his hand towards Cestus before dropping it. But his gaze never left Cestus, as the Turian’s clicking slowed, his breathing ensued, and the Turian shook his head.
“I am sorry,” began Cestus.
“Being sorry doesn’t change what you did, Cestus. Even in this situation.”
“It doesn’t?” asked the Turian, in surprise. Then, he snarled and smacked his head.
“It doesn’t. Even if it’s appreciated,” said Zal, watching as the Turian raised his head to meet eyes-to-eyes. “But this. The whole deal with your parents. It has to change.”
“This deal? What do you mean?”
“You and your parents as a whole,” huffed Zal as he stood up. His feet burned, his legs hurt. But he managed to stand upright as he snapped his gaze on Cestus. “Come help me take a shower. And come take one too, you’re greasy.”
The authoritative tone worked quite well on Cestus, enough for the Turian to stand, walk around, and grab Cestus by the shoulder to help him forward. He even let Zal sit down on the toilet while he turned on the hot water.
“You can’t live all your life in their grasp, afraid of what your mother will say.”
“You don’t know what she can do. I saw her snap an Elcor’s neck on her own. She’s not to fuck with,” said Cestus, testing the water jet.
“As long as you bow to her, she’ll use it against you. And letting your father do what he wants doesn’t help either,” said Zal, extending one hand and waiting for Cestus to grab it, to help him get on his feet before Zal was under the jet, with Cestus hosing him down.
The hot water was perfect, taking away the Turian spunk, the impurities, and the natural protective layer covering Zal’s skin. It was the soothing balm the Quarian desired as he closed his eyes and lifted his head, turning to the ceiling while feeling that warm water run over his skin, all over his body, taking the traces of the abuse he’d taken.
Well, most of it. The scratches and hickey were still there.
Then… there was a shift in the jet, and Cestus’s warm presence against Zal’s back, pressing the Quarian to step further into the shower.
“Why do you want to help me so much?”
“Because…”
Zal considered it. Frowned, then turned to Cestus, watching that pathetic expression. Then, the Quarian scratched his brows.
“Even if I want to get off-world and find my hidey-hole somewhere in the galaxy, I don’t want you to be miserable.”
Zal even huffed.
“I could if I were petty. But I consider that if you are a better Turian, you’ll handle your next wife, Turian or not, better. So you won’t be as miserable, and your next partner better, too.”
“I am that pathetic?” asked Cestus, his quills dripping, a first.
“Yes. You are. Now, could you tell me what happened with your parents? And what did you tell them about us? I don’t want any surprises.”
What followed was one of Cestus’s most impressive rants. But most impressive was how Cestus’s rant wasn’t directed at a Quarian or a female. No, it was a long list of wrongs the Turian had been keeping all that time.
The mistreatment, the regular beatings, his brother tattling on him, the favoritism, the constant comparison, the alienation of all friends. And that was only his childhood.
The more it went, the more surprising it was that Cestus wasn’t a raging ball of anger.
It continued with the suitors, the forced relationships, the genuine relationships broken by Rectus and Cestus’s brother, the career sabotage in the army, the constant prodding about Cestus’s weight, and so on.
Aisha was noted as the sole light in that situation, and perhaps that was why Cestus was so relaxed in the Asari’s presence.
Then came the lies. By then, Zal and Cestus were outside the shower, drying themselves. At the same time, Cestus explained how he had ‘selected Zal’ to become his girlfriend, forced Zal to become a part of the rehabilitation program, and petitioned so that he could join Cestus. And then, more tidbits about how their relationship started with Zal’s obvious desires for Turian ‘meat’.
A large web of lies, Zal was taking into consideration with one remark: “Aren’t you afraid it won’t bite you back one day?”
A remark met with clicking mandibles and a shiver from the naked and ventripotent Turian.
“Always.”
“Boshtet. It’ll always bite you back,” answered Zal, throwing the towel aside. “But I’ll keep to your story.”
“You will?”
“Why do you ask? You are also my ticket out. Now, come help me.”
More sullen than before, but helpful, Cestus assisted Zal in putting on another article. It wasn’t the robe he had been wearing, but something closer to a night gown. A translucent gown that met the criteria of being exposed while worn.
It was from being decent, but it would do as long as Cestus’s parents were there… And it seemed to work well in tempting Cestus.
The Turian’s pants were tight like steel and about to burst when they exited the bedroom, finding the apartment quite silent, if not for the distant sound of television.
No sight of Calipinia, but Zal offered his arms, and Cestus took it, his mandibles clicking.
Then, like a couple, the two stepped outside the corridors to be welcomed by Rectus.
The old Turian was on the sofa, watching an action movie with a Turian hero shooting everything that moved while dodging explosions. A common trope in those movies.
And all the while, Rectus was shouting: “Damascus! Damascus!” with his right fist raised and a can of beer in the other hand.
“Rectus?” asked Zal, cutting through. With one hand, the Turian paused the movie and turned, passing an arm over the sofa.
“Oh, hey, sweetie. Back on your feet after last night? I told Calipinia you’d be feeling unwell, but I guess I am wrong. Ready for another turn?”
Even Rectus’s brows danced, and Cestus’s huffs were audible as Zal approached.
He approached by rolling his hips, making his body sway in a tantric-like dance. Before he had his hand right on Rectus’s lips.
The older Turian's reaction was to close his eyes and open his mouth slightly, assuredly expecting Zal to kiss him or something.
But no. Zal snatched the beer and turned to Cestus, nodding.
“Again drinking? This is bad for your liver, Rectus. Come with us to the kitchen, I’ll prepare something for us four… Unless Calipinian left?”
“She left to get your brother,” said Rectus, now speaking over Zal. “Can I get my beer?”
“You-“
“You shouldn’t drink so early. Come,” said Zal, even shaking his posterior to get the Turian’s attention, who huffed… But returned to his movie.
Nevertheless, Zal went to the kitchen, followed by Cestus. With one swift movement, Zal emptied the can in the sink, then threw the empty can out. The sounds from the television were stronger, but it didn’t deter Zal from reaching into the fridge for the ingredients of the omelet he'd been taught to make.
“What was that?” asked Cestus, his tone a bit harsh. “I thought you said you wanted to help me.”
“I am. By teaching your father he should mind his manners,” said Zal, offering a hand. “Can you help me?”
Cetus’s brows raised. But in the end, he helped.
More than that, the tense cooking gave way to a chatter about what they had to do that day if Calipinia were there. Would they be visiting the nearby victory park? Or perhaps the shooting range? Or one of the few museums dedicated to the Quarian’s history?
“Why not visit the wild ranges?”
Rectus’s question was a surprise; but here was Cestus’s father, leaning against the doorjamb. The old Turian only wore a boxer, now that Zal could see it. And his attitude showed that he was hungover.
“The wild ranges?” asked Zal, tilting his head.
“Yeah, outside the city. There are mesas and other places to explore along the coasts. You know some?” asked Rectus, coming closer and sitting at the table.
“I don’t know. I didn’t leave the city much. Cestus?”
“Hmm?” mumbled the Turian, before he shook his head. “Sorry, Dad, I don’t know much. But I can search for you.”
“You never saw what’s outside the city or your district, Zal?”
“Unless you are given the right, you must remain within a perimeter of five kilometers of your district. Else you get… Shot.”
A shared grimace came through the two Turians, making Cestus look so similar to his father.
“I’ll search for a good place. What else do you want to do, Rectus?”
“Visit a few bars, see your friends. Maybe visit the Quarian districts. You know some whores, Zal?”
“No,” answered the Quarian, adamant.
“No one?”
“None. They are always living apart. But you can visit there. As long as you have your biometrics, Turians can get in or out.”
A luxury Quarians didn’t have. But Zal kept that part under wraps while he finished unsticking the omelet and cutting it into four parts.
One for each of them.
“Calipinia isn’t there,” said Rectus, grimacing again.
“I’ll keep it for later. If she returns, she will be hungry,” said Zal, offering Rectus a plate and another for Cestus. “Shall we eat?”
Somehow, the two Turians nodded and followed Zal as they went to the bay window. And through some coaxing, the Quarian even got them to drag the table out so they could eat out in the sunlight.
Something Zal enjoyed, as well as the aroma of the nearby blooms, as he tasted his cooking. It wasn’t as tasty as his favorite roasted roots. But it was good enough for the Quarian, who took small bites, compared to the ravenous hunger the two Turians were showing.
However, as they ate, something struck Zal. Something he kept silent as Rectus began the small talk, asking about Cestus’s job.
He asked about his company ‘Future exports’, how the benefits were, and how his health was.
In return, most answers were relatively positive, ending with another line of questions from Cestus: How is it going on Palaven? Are there any problems with the distant family? How went the tour on Palaven’s seas?
Palaven. The planet remained an almost impossible vision for most Quarians. Though, once Zal enjoyed his freedom of search here, he had searched about it. Weak magnetic field, treacherous forests, a perilous world. Rannoch was almost peaceful if desertic in comparison.
But everything about the Turians was alien. Their militaristic attitude stood in stark contrast to the Quarians, who formed tight-knit societies.
Was it why they were so quick to dismiss the Quarians’ concern?
Zal mused about it and much more while the Father and Son were catching up. For a moment, Zal was even thinking about foregoing his little prodding.
But then, Rectus scooted his chair closer in front of Cestus. Worse, he was definitely ogling Zal’s groin and body through the translucent gown while Zal finished his meal.
“What about you, Zal? Do you have a sister just as sexy as you? Or maybe a brother who’s willing to get fixed like you?”
Oh, certainly many a Quarian would be happy to get snipped if they were assured of having a sleazy husband who would give them a happy life.
But no. Zal coughed and put down his fork while turning his head to Rectus.
“Rectus,” said Zal, a hand to his chin. “I am curious why you are not following your family tradition.”
“Sorry?” asked Rectus, blinking and baffled.
“Yes. Your family tradition about being naked. When we are alone with Cestus, we are always naked and fucking, isn’t it right?”
Cestus himself seemed confused, almost lost for a second. But Zal merely smiled at him, and then returned to Rectus, ignoring a clicking in the distance.
“You can feel comfortable, father-in-law. I am not against it after all.”
“Oh. Sorry, this time. I don’t feel like I need to get naked. This is good enough with my boxers, right, son?”
Rectus turned his head, but it was Cestus’s turn to be baffled and then frown. And then having a thin smile.
“If you prefer, it’s fine. But I think from now on, I’ll stay clothed with my wife, and you should do the same. What we did yesterday was highly unsightly, Father. Mother wouldn’t like it.”
“Wouldn’t like what?”
“Shit.”
Though almost everyone’s eyes were on Calipinia, Zal did not swear due to her presence. Even if the matriarch was scowling and again in her officer attire, looking like the sharpest soldier in the Hegemony, she wasn’t the most threatening Turian Zal had seen.
She might scowl at Zal, more so after he swore. But Zal wasn’t the most afraid of her.
She was a feline, a lioness, but her danger was in what she projected.
No… What made Zal swear and almost scoot closer to Cestus was another presence. Gold markings, red eyes. And an anger in that glare.
A cold, icy glare that left Zal gulping as he saw that.
“Pelagius! What a pleasure to see you, son!” shouted Rectus, standing up with his arms outstretched.
In that moment, Calipinia’s glare was even less an event, even less a detail than the way Pelagius’s mandibles contorted in a grin, as his eyes glimmered with rage before they filled with joy as he welcomed Rectus in his arms.
“Dad! That’s so good to see you! I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you before. I was busy at my work. But I am happy we are all together! Even you, Cestus!”
“Pelagius,” nodded Cestus somberly, crossing his arms while speaking with a tone dripping with disdain. “A pleasure to see you, brother.”
“I know you love me,” said Pelagius, patting his father’s back and letting him go. “Plus. We are lucky the whole family is here.”
“That’s right, Pelagius. It is great that our family is complete again. Now, can you tell us about your latest exploits in the army?”
Cestus was fuming. Zal could see and hear it, watching the mandibles click. Even then, the young Quarian tried to reach for his boss, to hold his shoulder. There was no way he could tell him everything out in the open without the whole family catching up on it.
And yet, as Zal touched and gripped that shoulder, opening his mouth to ask for a moment in private, Cestus’s quills straightened. And so, while Pelagius was speaking about his latest raid on a separatist enclave located far north, Cestus spoke up.
“Wait, Pelagius. Where is the wife you were so proud and happy to talk about? You didn’t say you had a Quarian fag to present to us?”
“Oh, right,” said Pelagius, his smile predatory. His parents were watching him with attention and desire, especially Calipinia. Rectus, he was mimicking her.
But both sets of eyes, no… All three sets of eyes were on Pelagius’s hand as he extended it towards Zal.
Zal, who was red, flustered, wanted to hide behind Cestus even as Cestus turned towards him.
“Mom. Dad. I present to you, Zal. I told you I found a prime Quarian male to shape and train to be a perfect addition to our family. I am lucky Cestus helped me prepare my future wife.”
“… Shit,” breathed Cestus, bewildered and seemingly hit by the fact.
“He’s… Your brother?” asked Zal, practically out of breath and stunned. Of course, Pelagius must be. But...
“It was unlucky it was my brother who castrated my wife. I thought that’s fair for all the times I helped him see the lack of commitment from his previous suitors. But now, brother, wouldn’t it be unfair for you to want to steal my wife?”
Zal gulped, watching Pelagius’s eyes drift onto him. And the ire returned, the outrage.
“Bullshit,” spat Cestus, standing up. “Zal is with me! She’s my wife now! I’ve presented her to mother and father for our betrothal.”
“It wasn’t a complete betrothal since your brother wasn’t there,” commented Calipinia, her hand to her chin. “But since we are all reunited, we can proceed with the ceremony. Cestus, hand your brother his wife.”
The click from Cestus’s mandibles was as loud as his gasp. No, even louder than Zal’s gasp. The Quarian’s eyes widened… And his breath was a whistle as he saw Cestus tense and those fists clench.
“I won’t. If my wife wants to be yours, Pelagius, she’ll move herself. Right, Zal?”
Yet Zal remained frozen, watching the three Turians watching him with expectation, with anger, with disdain.
Suddenly, all the lies were about to bite them.