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Sequence 1 Merge 2, Stable Tristan, Samalian Tristan ran along the edge of his property as he did every morning. His bit of unpredictable fun that, he had to admit, had become predictable, but it was still fun, so he didn’t feel like changing it. He left the forest, and the distant house became visible; he knew he could be seen from it. He knew, because the house’s inhabitants had both made their interest known to him. He hadn’t expected doing his run nude to lead to this. His fur meant clothing was only something for the humans’ sense of decency, and neither of the inhabitants had that. Unfortunately for the woman, he had no interest in that gender, but her husband…? And he had a background that made their encounter along his run more interesting. The owner of Diny’s tavern had a seedy past, as did nearly everyone who had settled on this planet at the edge of governed space. He’d researched everyone in the process of securing where he lived. He couldn’t risk the research he did for his brother to be interrupted if one of their past came calling. That had required going around and removing those potential interruptions himself, but so long as he left nothing that could trace back to him, and so, his brother, Justin didn’t complain too loudly. He didn’t see the attack come, but reacted quickly enough to redirect the nude man who’d thrown himself from the tall tree so he landed in the dirt instead of on his back. He rolled to a crouch and grinned, flexing his hands. Kline Orfvil had been an assassin for one of the large corporations, earning a reputation for precision and efficiency throughout his career. Love, of all things, caused him to retire. His employer objected, and Kline left a swatch of dead executive as part of his retirement package. He became a tavern slash inn slash diner owner on a planet so far from everything it didn’t officially have a name. Kline threw himself at Tristan, landing a punch that had a surprising amount of force behind it, even accounting for the man’s lean musculature. Unknown to nearly everyone in Haven(the name the those who settled her had chosen for their planet), Kline had top of the line, at least as of when they were woven in, muscle fiber enhancements. Tristan swept the legs out from under the man, but he’d rolled out of reach, then he reached to grab a limb. Then he was on his feet again, coming with punches and kicks; Tristan blocked and parried. The man hadn’t looked like this when Tristan arrived. He’d let himself go. The micro weave gave him strength, but didn’t keep fat from accumulating, which would have been a decent camouflage, if that had been the man’s intent. It was the inactivity and, Tristan suspected, a level of mild depression. Loving his wife didn’t mean the change in profession came without emotional consequences. These encountered had turned out to be as good for Kline as they were for Tristan. With a grin, Tristan caught the arm he’d dodged, turned and pulled the man against him, back to front, holding him in place, with an arm across his chest. “You lose,” Tristan whispered, turning so they faced the house. “You better put on a good show for her.” He rubbed his erection between Kline’s cheeks, slicking them with precum. They’d discuss how this would go, the three of them. How much Kline was willing to endure of Tristan’s restrained violence when it came to sex. The man had an impressive level of endurance to pain, but Tristan was the first man he’d let fuck him, and Tristan was impressive, even among Samalians. Kline reached up and grabbed onto Tristan’s neck for extra steadiness. “Go wild,” he panted. “I stretched.” Tristan licked the ear. “Did you now? Did you remember to lube up?” “Oh, fu—” Tristan slammed in. The man’s cock went hard and precum flew as it bounced in time with Tristan’s thrusting. “That’s it,” he whispers. “Show her how much you love my cock in your ass. How much her strong, unstoppable man turns into a malleable pleasure doll when I get my hands on him.” A hand on the man’s stomach gave him the purchase to pick up speed. He bared his teeth at the house, showed her the kind of monster her man submitted to. At least this time. Sometimes, Kline outsmarted him, or Tristan felt like being fucked, then her husband became the monster tamer, and Tristan was the one putting on a show for her. “You better hurry.” Tristan panted, thrusting faster. “I’m getting close. Do you really want to disappoint her?” he slammed in and pulled out, slamming again. Fucking the man the way he enjoyed it to help him. “How will she rate your performance if I cum and you don’t? If I leave you crumbled on the ground here to crawl to her with your—” he grinned “—tail between your legs?” He fucked harder. Despite his teasing, he wanted the man to cum. This was for them as much as for him, and Tristan had the self control to keep himself on the edge of orgasm for as long as needed; although he didn’t enjoy denying himself. He loved his pleasure too much. Kline screamed and cum flew as his cock bounced. “That’s a good boy,” Tristan whispered and raised his head as he slammed his cock in and roared with his orgasm. He held him as he emptied himself, then panted, rubbing his muzzle against the side of Kline’s neck. “You okay?” he whispered. The man laughed. “I don’t think I can walk. You’ll have to carry me home.” Tristan chuckled. “That isn’t part of the arrangement, Kline. We perform for your wife and our pleasure, and then I return to my run.” “This can be about more than dominating one another, you know.” “I know.” Tristan had the flash of a face, human, in a bed, joy and pleasure on that face. “But not for us, Kline. This is what I enjoy with you.” He pulled out, and the man gasped. He held him until his legs were steady. Kline turned and kissed him. Tristan considered his reaction for a fraction of a second, then kissed the man back. Not out of passion, but as part of giving him more of what the man wanted. He knew nothing came of this. Tristan had made it clear he wouldn’t be involved in an emotional relationship. That the man attempted to convince him otherwise was on him, and him alone. And probably his wife. He suspected she played a part in this; the idea she could watch them have sex in their bed, instead of through a magnifying visor, would appeal to her. “See you at the diner?” Kline asked. “Same as every day. Are you good to return to her?” The man stepped away from Tristan, steady on his legs. That was enough of an answer, and Tristan returned to his run. * * * * * Still damp from the shower, he sat at his terminal, looking over the last of the results his programs had given him on the rifle’s performance. They didn’t look right, so he assembled it, took it outside and put it through a series of controlled shots. Eight percent less efficient than the manufacturer’s documentation, and what his programs, said. What tricks had they used to manipulate those results? Manufacturers were always lying about their creations’ performance. It was one of the reason Justin had convinced Tristan to settle down somewhere and focus on research, instead of gallivanting across the universe getting into fights and beds. It always amused him how different they were. Justin, the dour SpaceGov bureaucrat, focused on performance and efficiency, while Tristan wanted to have fun. Wanted to stay moving, physically and mentally. Their father’s torturous upbringing, and each that taken something different from it, other than sticking together, no matter how much their father insisted they couldn’t depend on anyone in this universe, especially not each other. They had proved the man wrong by killing him together. Tristan immobilizing him, and Justin slamming the knife in the man’s chest over and over, screaming his rage at the abuse Tristan hadn’t always been able to shield his brother from. Then they’d left the forest and the planet. * * * * * “What am I looking at?” Justin demanded, peering at what Tristan showed him through the screen. “The reason SpaceGov’s military’s been having trouble recently. This little thing alters the calibration rating so that even equipment scans show it’s more efficient they it is. I had to do an in the field comparison—” “Please tell me you didn’t leave the planet.” Tristan laughed. “Relax Justin. I have so much land I could build a city and no one here would notice.” “Please don’t.” His brother said with a tired sigh. “The point of you being on that mote of mud is that no one would think to look for you there. Your research is too important.” “You need a vacation.” The rubbing down of his face spoke more to how tired his brother was than any denial he might have made. Like him, he had taken to their father’s training in never showing weakness. Unlike him, he still clung to it because his work within SpaceGov required a level of vigilance Tristan had distanced himself from. “But, it just means the shooting range is large enough I can test anything without bothering the neighbors. And before you worry, they also can’t see the test. Don’t worry, my work is still secret.” His brother nodded at what Tristan held. “What’s your recommendation for fixing that problem?” He shrugged. “How much complaining will pulling the part out cause from those who think they’re your superiors?” Justin chuckled. “A lot. They like to believe they can trust everyone we do business with, since we’re the big bad SpaceGov. The idiots. Like the universe isn’t built on who can screw the other one harder and get away with it.” Tristan didn’t understand his brother’s need to play at not being the one running his department. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t taken over the entirely of SpaceGov by now. He’d have the universe running like a well-built machine. “Then you have two options. Tell those in charge of your armies to lower their expectations by eight percent, or, you know, you could arrange for one of the soldiers to realize their rifles aren’t going to be all that unsafe without this thing in it. No one can blame you if a soldier is the one who takes it out.” “I don’t know that their lives is worth an eight percent increase in firepower.” Tristan shrugged. “That’s your decision. I’m just here to tell you what these things do.” His brother let out a slow breath. “Thanks. I have a few things heading your way. They should reach you before you’re done with the next project.” “A few?” “Don’t worry, I have people looking for more. I’m confident I’ll have more on the way before you’re done with those. The last thing I want if you off this planet drawing attention to yourself again.” Tristan snorted. “I never draw attention to myself, Justin.” “Really? So all those stories of the dark furred Samalian fucking his way through the men across the universe isn’t you?” He smiled, showing teeth. “You tell me. Do those stories give him a name? Is it my name? And how old is the last story?” He hadn’t planned on being more anonymous that last time, but he’d also not planned on coming across a man who could keep up with him. His brother’s suspicious expression said he’d said too much. Now he’d go looking for sign he’d left without him realizing it. It wasn’t Tristan’s fault the man he’d set on the planet to keep tabs on him could be bribed. “Anyway,” Justin said. “I have to get back to work. The higher ups keep demanding more and more. Don’t leave that planet.” “I won’t.” At least not until his brother couldn’t send him something to keep him occupied. The sex with Kline wasn’t quite enough to appease his need to do. Spending the energy he couldn’t pour into his research on the man would probably destroy him. His brother ended the transmission, and Tristan opened the crate with his next project. * * * * * “Tristan!” Luke Harmitage called from the road leading to the further house. “I’m glad I ran into you. I have problems with my generator. Mind taking a look?” “Catch me on my way back.” “I really think it needs to be looked after—” “Then you should have made sure you maintained it, Luke.” It wasn’t the first time the man depended on Tristan to repair something his negligence damaged. Justin would complain if he knew how abrasive he was at times, more than when he had found out Tristan used his name among those here. His brother had wanted him to be someone small and unobtrusive. But he’d easily seen the problem that would cause him. The constant agreeing with anything the others wanted of the builder, he’d have no choice to show them as an explanation for everything he received. He’d had to be others too long while the two of them fled Samalia, and the trouble the things their father had taught them caused. He was done being anyone but him, unless he felt it was required, and he wouldn’t be someone else in the place he considered home. He waved to the people he met, exchanged greetings with those is spoke, but he didn’t let them delay him. His lunch at Diny’s was important to more than him. It was where the few who knew the part he played in keeping them safe were reminded he was still here, that they didn’t have to worry yet. He picked a free table in the center of the room, with a nod and smile to Kline, behind the counter. “Tristan,” Jacoby said in passing, a hand on his shoulder, then was gone. The town’s other protector, the man claiming to be a retired mercenary who couldn’t quite leave the life behind the way Tristan had when he’d no longer needed it to ensure his and Justin’s survival. If one had to leave the planet, the other took over his duties. This way, they’d kept any who might have ill intent toward the inhabitants from reaching the ground. They sometimes compared body counts over drinks on evenings where neither had too much to do. Tristan had made advances; the man had laughed them off. Unlike many of those from the life, he’d never become someone who took his pleasure wherever he found it. He liked his women, and many of the women in the town kept him company. He was human and better matched to other humans, unlike Tristan, who needed men with a certain level of endurance to stand his passion. The hand that moved up his arm as the other places the plate ladened with food was delicate, a marked contrast to her husband’s rough hand. “Thank you,” she whispered, close enough to his ear it twitched. He turned and smiled, looking into her brown eyes. “It was our pleasure, I assure you.” He loved how she blushed. Even the scent of her arousal was pleasant, although it didn’t trigger him the way a man’s scent did. He…. He didn’t love her. Tristan’s father and ensure love was something he couldn’t feel, but he liked her and her husband, and the others in this town, on this planet. His people. Those who made this place his home. She lightly kissed his cheek and returned to serving others, and Tristan took his datapad to read the manufacturer’s documents on his current project while he ate.