Wreck of the Generation
"Congratulations!" shouted a human lady from across the lounge. A strap from her dress fell down her arm as she raised her cocktail in our direction.
"Hey, over here," yelped a thin ferret as he pointed a flat-screen camera at us. "Smile!"
In only a matter of seconds, our picture appeared on one of the wide-screens that lined the walls of the lounge. There was Gabe and I--an anthro deer-buck and a human woman--sitting at our table in the lounge beside each other. I in my emerald, which now I thought was too tight around the edges, and he in his black suit jacket, white shirt, and red and gold tie. That was the only outfit I had seen him wear the entire voyage. Everyone in the lounge cheered as it appeared and the holographic band struck up another tune.
Our picture was now in the middle of a news article covering the screen. It was for The Soapbox. At least that was an overtly political paper, and nobody takes those too seriously these days. "Heroes of the Generation" read the headline. It wasn't a good photo, neither of us looked happy--I certainly wasn't--nor were we looking directly into the camera. Below our picture was a caption:
"Gabriel Harvey (head of Ship Security for the Generation) and Sophia Lawson (journalist for the Charlotte Mentor) solve a slew of murders aboard the Generation."
My inner journalist pondered for a moment as to why there weren't more pictures of us fading into that one picture-hold (an area of the digital article where multiple pictures of the same subject matter would fade into place for a few seconds to be replaced by the next). I was relieved to know that we only had one picture of ourselves taken by a reporter, and that everyone around us seemed too drunk to even send their person pictures to straight to The Soapbox, or any other publication for that matter.
For the fifth time in the past three minutes, I pressed the time button on my Pocket-Bracelet. The characters 2:31am June 27th, 2123 ran across my eye lens.
Gabe looked down at his plate, his salad was wilting and turning brown; his ear's hung low. He wasn't enjoying this charade anymore then I was. He was a brawny guy and kept his stern bearings. I only saw him smile twice: when I berated a smart-ass horse into telling us what he knew about Clover's secret stashes all over the ship, and when we finally brought Clover in for the murder of Dr. Stan Tucker. That was earlier this evening. In the few days I had known him, Gabe was like a stone wall, never letting anything get a handle over him. Not even me. But now, it looked like it was becoming even harder for him to do that.
I looked away. We'd barely touched our food, or looked at each other when we sat down--two hours ago. I gazed back up at the screen that featured our article. Adjacent to our picture were two other picture holder's side-by-side with a caption underneath them:
"Dr. Ron Tucker (left) was found to be murdered by Dan Clover (right) two nights ago."
The pictures that ran through Dr. Tucker's picture-hold looked like faculty profiles from his years as head of the Department of Philosophy at Hillside University. Him with his graying beard and central casting smile. There were only two pictures of Dan Clover: one of his mug shot taken today, and the other of him in a red bandana, camouflage jacket, and his paw up in a fist. I didn't bother to read the printed story--Gabe and I had been living the whole thing for the past forty-eight hours. I knew exactly how The Soapbox would run the story too.
Dr. Dan Tucker was found shot dead in the swimming pool of the World Crosser Line passenger liner Generation. He had been the target of radicals on both sides of the human-anthro issue since publishing his controversial scholarly article last summer. In his article, he argued that because the anthro brain appears to have all the faculties of a human brain, and because the cognition and creativity of the human brain is what defines us as humans, anthros are by all means human and should, therefore, be treated with the decency as equal to human beings. He concluded, however, that this morally justifies inter-species relationships between humans and anthros.
But his death was not in vain, because the ultimate odd couple were on the case: Gabriel Harvey and Sophia Lawson. One anthro and one human pulling together of their God-given minds to track down Dr. Tucker's murder. It was riveting. Over forty-eight hours full of tedious analysis, sharp wits, and red-herrings --and lacking in sleep. But they pulled it off! They brought down Dan Clover, a radical anthro-seperatist, and may have saved the World Crosser Line from an international scandal. It just goes to show that like minds are tighter than blood and Dr. Tucker can rest in peace knowing that his thesis was proven in the form of an anthro-buck, head of ship security, and a human woman journalist. Right now, no pair is more deserving of celebration...or to go to bed with each other.
CLINK!!!
My fork fell on my empty wine glass. Gabe looked over, but his glance stopped at the glass. He was a bit startled, but shook his head. "Why don't you get yourself a drink?" he said in his usual near whisper.
"I think the bartender has been eying me."
"Then get something to eat then." All that was before me was my appetizer of celery and blue cheese, which I hadn't touched. "I'm not hungry." I pick up my fork and point it to his salad. "I can see you're not either." He sighed. "It's kind of hard to eat when you're the center of attention. How do you deal with it?"
"A journalist is never the center of attention," I scoffed. "We make those centers."
Alright, even The Soapbox would never out rightly publish the last part. But that was the subtext. This party was the subtext. As I gazed out to see the drunken anthros and humans laugh and make once overs at us, that subtext was all too obvious, like a poorly written holo-play.
The human lady from across the room, who was now being accosted by a towering Doberman. The panther lounging back in one of the sofas, a girl on each side: one a cheetah and the other a human blonde (extremely rare these days if that was her real hair). The ferret from The Soapbox fidgeted with his camera in the bar corner. The possum who commended me on my nightcap as she pointed to Gabe. They were all part of it. Brent said he called this party in our honor of our finding Dr. Tucker's murder. I would never know his motivation, but I knew that wasn't what they were here for. It was not that Gabe and I brought a fox to justice for killing an innocent man. It wasn't that we brought security back to this liner. They were here because the most puritan of the passengers aboard the _Generation_were going to climax this whole frenzy by shacking up. We were here to sanction their inner guilt.
_Look, even the stern security head and the cold journalist couldn't escape this 'floating Babylon'. _
I'd bet that none of them actually read Dr. Tucker's journal, or would read in the news feeds that would actually talk about how we solved the case. They'd do what most of the world will do, skim to the part where it is reported that Gabe and I left with each other and weren't seen until daylight. Everyone else will use it as proof that these liners were nothing more than inter-species sex-capades; but the people in this room would secretly find relief in the knowledge that even the best of them could sink to inter-species depravity.
I looked over to the bar. The bartender--a young, muscular wolf who had been hitting on me the entire voyage--was pouring an ogling squirrel her gin-and-tonic. He was naked from the waist up, which was unusual. I wanted a drink so bad, but I dared not get up. As soon as I did, I knew the faces would put me into their peripherals again. A human woman with a drink in her hand as she sat next to a strapping anthro-buck was a clear indicator of what she had on her mind later. Gabe didn't drink.
"To my two redeemers!"
I recognized the voice from the start and was not surprised see a scrawny red fox with a wide grin coming for our table when I turned.
"Hello, Brent," said Gabe, with a hint of annoyance.
"You mind?" he chuckled as he took the seat across from us, placing his cocktail in the center of the table. Gabe shrugged, "It's your ship." Brent waived his paw, "Now that you've returned it to me. You have no idea what I've been through trying to keep this thing afloat since it happened." I squeezed the end of the table.
Really?
"I swear," he continued. "I think we would've been done for if it weren't for you two." His voice lowered a bit but didn't lose its zing. "I really owe it to you two and I promise Gabe and..." he looked at me, "Ms. Lawson." He eyed me in admiration, but his voice, and green irises, seemed to house a dose of envy. Brent picked up his cocktail, a concoction of green liquid and a steaming surface. "I promise that you will be rewarded threefold for the services you've done for me."
"I'm listening," Gabe blurted out before Brent managed to touch the glass to his lips. The fox gagged for a moment and threw his glass back down on the table. Its fumes of rich berries teased my tortured tongue. Brent's flashing gaze locked with Gabe's solid glance. "For you Gabe, in the short run at least, a raise and a possible promotion."
Gabe gave a puzzled look. "How do you plan on getting that done, Brent? You're only the head of the Drawing Department." Brent's grin only widened. "Gabe...I gave them this ship and you gave it a good reputation. The Line is going to freak. And if we can't twist a few arms to get you a bit more for yourself, then I'll bring you on with my department and give you the raise myself. I have the power for that."
"Brent," Gabe sounded like a father speaking calm words of sense to an overactive child. "What could I possibly do for Drawing?"
Brent finally took a swig of his drink. "Plenty. I've been looking for a better adviser in security matters. It's best to get those issues taken care of in drafting. Especially on my next project." Then he looked at me again, with his oddly acute look. "Sophie, you've barely even touched that water. How long have you been sitting here?"
"I'm just not in the mood."
I look back over at the open bar as I scratched my heel against my leg. "What're you trying to pull with the bartender?" I bated my eyes to the half-naked wolf. Brent chuckled. "Guilty as charged! I asked him to sex it up tonight for the occasion." He took another drink from his steaming glass and I took the opportunity to give a quick glare, of which I exchanged with Gabe. When Brent finished, he turned his gaze to Gabe and leaned his slender frame in his direction. "How about you, Gabe?" A glitter came to Brent's eyes that wasn't there before. "Can I buy you something to drink?" Gabe stared back at him blankly.
"Why? You know I don't."
"Well," Brent leaned forward. "I just thought that...after all the strain you've put on for this week...you might make one exception to ease up." His voice eagerly lisped.
I looked up again at the screens on the wall, just enough to keep Brent in my peripheral and look as if I were total oblivious to them; it's a skill I've mastered. I only managed to catch a glimpses of a few articles as I saw the fox slip a paper into Gabe's front pocket. The articles featured stories about Abdu Raphal (President of the African regime of Gonglaia) spouting off war against "mixed-being and the nations who harbored it". Brent curved his body and winked at Gabe. Another story advertised the Generation. Gabe's face was as cold as ever, like freezing down a billowing heat. There was another story about a frigate attacked by Gongalian submarines off the coast of Rio. The shouts of Raphal over the screen and Brent's gaze returning to her seemed to snap her back into their presence.
"Again I toast to you both," Brent beamed as he raised his steaming glass once more. "For saving not just this ship, or this Line, but the whole integrated, shipping industry." He drank and went on in what sounded like some kind of pitch. "With the prices of air and space ever increasing, this Line offers the most efficient, comfortable, affordable, and..._well rounded_experience." He waived his paw across the lounge towards the humans and anthros who were sitting, drinking, and dancing together. His eyes rested on a young couple, one a human girl and the other an anthro-stud kissing beside the holographic band. "You..." Brent signed. "...Just made have saved this whole Babylon". I looked on intently.
Some of what Brent said was certainly true. Because shipping had fallen by the wayside as means of ancient transportation (along with trains and cars) the shipping industry was largely unregulated and thus didn't fall under the broad brush policies of "appealing to the needs and sensibilities in human and anthro relations", which was all code for required segregation. Over the past decade, however, shipping had been seeing a rebound. Partly because of the inefficiencies in air and space travel regarding fuel, as well as an undercurrent demand for a desecrated means of transportation. Though voyages were certainly not the quickest means of travel (even for the Generation, now the fastest ship in the world) it was comfortable and affordable. Besides...destination wasn't exactly the object. It was for this reason that I got strange looks from my colleagues after it became known around the office that I was traveling to Lima on the Generation.
"Go and find your inner animal!"
The incredulous voice of one friend saying farewell echoed in my ears the entire journey. It appeared on the faces spying looks at Gabe and I sitting here. Still, there was something innocent in that couple. It made me think that perhaps what Gabe and I had done meant something more than a hot scandalous article. Indeed, people--particularly humans--had been attacking shipping for its general attitude toward integration and "the inducement of unnatural relations". There had been calls for regulation (from the discrete critics) and for the sinking of all integrated liners (from the notable zealots like Raphal). Every opportunity was being exploited for an end to integrated liners, these "floating Babylons", and the murder Dr. Dan Tuck was to be the latest nail to dive. But now our pictures littered the news world. Looking at the couple, the anthro-stud and human girl, I thought that if another couple like them could enjoy each other's company in the same place, and in the same manner at some time in the future, me and Gabe would have truly succeeded. I only wish they could've seen that, instead of just me and Gabe--and the company we'd have in our bedrooms tonight.
"Perhaps..." Brent's voice trailed off. "We could celebrate...personally...later." He was talking to Gabe. Then he turned back to me. "By the way, I'll let you both in on a little surprise. We'll be docking in Lima by sunrise." My body convulsed upward and I had to stop myself from rising to me feet. "What? But we have another day." Brent patted the table. "The Generation has been good to us. We'll make the journey from New York to Liam in three days instead of four. A feet unimaginable after the closure of the Panama Canal. So enjoy your last night. We've ensured that people will be able to part from the ship with reservations to accommodate our surprise. Now the papers will have too things to rejoice about tomorrow." Brent stood up triumphantly. His heated glance eyed Gabe again. "Leaving just one last night of escapades aboard this ship's maiden voyage."
Then he left us, saying one last word to a few people in the lounge before heading out who seemed worried. He reminded them that the I-Shield (the electronic, invisible shield that encircled the ship) protected the ship from detection, as well as it passengers from falling off and from unwanted elements. Though the fear of hostile submarines largely subsided after we circled Strait of Magellan, it never hurt to be too safe.
Gabe and I were, once again, left stranded at our table.
**********
It wasn't long after Brent left us that Gabe gave me a look and nodded at me to follow him. His requesting glance made my heart jump. The stateroom we escaped to was unusual because it was nearly identical to mine. If I didn't know better, I would've thought he brought me back to my room and I would have lambasted him for leading us to a hornet's nest of possible spies and reporters.
I lied against the firm bed, my arms resting on my stomach. A holo-play was airing over the prompter in front of me. I didn't have the volume up so I just watched two disembodied holographic figures dancing across the prompter. A young man and woman who pranced across the prompter but did not touch each other. There was anguish in their faces and it made me want to punch the pillow each time they averted each other's touch.
Gabe was out on the private promenade, which stretched just outside the room separated by a sliding glass door. I looked at his tall, brawny figure through the curtains. He had access to all the staterooms and brought me to this is vacant one. It was our hideout.
We would be landing in a few hours. I'd be off to my hotel in Lima and he'd heading back to New York on this very ship. I watched him stare out into the starry night. The speed of the ship made the moon slowly glide across the sky. He still in his suit and as upright as ever, not even so much is leaning against the rail of the promenade. It was as if every bone in his body was as sharp and firm has his antlers.
I looked back at the holo-play to see the two dancers running with each other towards something unseen; sweat pulsating from their temples and their bodies wavering. I squeezed the comforter, remembering how little time we have left. It was as if the room was screaming at me that what had to happen, had to happen. I looked at the clock, it was 4:46 AM. There was a force in the room and it knocked me out from the bed and into my slippers.
I walked out onto the promenade. There was some relief in the salty cool air that hit my skin is I joined Gabe side. The I-Shield for the promenade let in enough of a breeze for the pungency of the ocean to block any scent between us. The screaming silence of the moon and the sight of the racing moon planted me next to the brawny anthro-buck.
"What did Brent give you, Gabe?"
Gabe kept his pose as he took another puff from his electronic cigar, which was set to Carolina Winter Brisk. He reached into his front jacket pocket, pulled out the paper, and handed to me.
"You did more for me than I can ever repay. I need you now more than ever. Please work on me as hard as I worked on the ship. Just for tonight. -Brent"
"He's finally had the courage to come onto you upfront" I say what a snicker. Gabe shakes his head blankly, though there is a hint of amusement in it. "He does that all the time" he said as he let out more steam from his muzzle. "It's just been more intense the past couple days."
I lean forward. "Do you ever given to his requests?"
"Never."
"I thought all guys do that at least once," I blurt out grinning. "After all, for a guy, it shouldn't matter who's at the other end." Gabe flicks the end of his electronic cigar, a useless custom passed down from centuries of actually smoking tobacco. I'd seen him do it a couple times, though it's more like a nervous reaction rather than customary. "Well not me." Gabe grumbled. I laughed. "Are your standards really that human? And a hundred years outdated?" That got him to look at me with his brown eyes flared.
"I don't have a problem with other people decide to do, but it doesn't mean that there are still people like me out there who have standards on who they sleep with." I nodded conceding. "Well Gabe. To be honest, I wish there were more human men had that kind of attitude." Gabe seemed taken aback. His eyes were no longer flaring but puzzled. I smiled and leaned against the promenade railing, looking out into the horizon.
"Well," I hiss. "Why don't you, for once, humor him. He's your friend after all. And all he wants is a one night stand with the dashing buck who saved his ship from a total scandal."
"You're starting to sound like him," Gabe huffed. "You can pick on me as much as you want, but he'd enjoy that. But not me. He's a friend, not a fuck buddy. And for me even a one night stands have to be mutually enjoyable."
I hadn't slept in nearly forty-eight hours, but getting Gabe off like this never seemed to fail in amusement. "Calm yourself, Gabe." I chuckled. "There are plenty of guys I wish had the same attitude as..."
Gabe scoffed. "I didn't know you had sex."
I sprung around to face him. His eyes were lighter and a faint smile cracked his face.
Okay, he could play too.
"Like you don't care?" I snap back.
But I'm better.
"What do you mean?" His frown was returning.
"With your personality, it's a wonder if you could bend properly to accomplish such a feet. And all the standards you seem to have, it's a wonder that anyone can jump through all the right hoops."
That seemed to strike, and I did wish that I hadn't said it, or at least not like that, but I stood my ground. He slowly placed his electronic cigar in the pocket of his jacket and proceeded to raise his index finger up to the sky and then down to me.
"You have."
I fought not to shutter in the least as I felt his gaze locking me in. "Me, huh?"
"Mm-hmm!"
I look him right into his brown eyes that sparkled in the moonlight. It almost made me laugh.
He wants to be the tough guy now, huh?
"So...it's humans who are your guilty pleasure." I spoke with the same slyness as when we were leading the cheetah, Ms. Langer, to confession that she had known Clover, was his mistress in fact, and that he was involved in a radical pan-anthro group who declared Dr. Tucker an enemy to the life of anthros. That clue was the final straw for our case, and now I was getting to Gabe's. "Not that I'm totally surprised, Gabe. This is after all the place for that. But you? Mr. Puritan?"
Gabe shook his head with cold precision. "No, Sophie. Only you."
"Well...then mount me. Right now." I advanced on him, as if I were daring him to punch me. But I lost my balance a bit when he pulled back.
"No."
I stood up straight with my hands pressing against me waist. "And why not?"
Gabe turned his back to me. "I just can't."
"Are you that shut out?" I shouted. Then I see him hunch over a bit. "Or are you just a coward?" I just want him to face me, and it works. He turns with as much force, it made my hair blow in the breeze that shot off his body.
"I won't...because of them. Those people we ran in here to escape. They..."
"Expect it?"
Gabe is struck silent. He brushes his jacket. "Yes, exactly."
"Fine, Gabe. Forget I said it." He reaches for his cigar again, but stops when I continue. "But before you do, humor me. Why me?"
He sighed, and looked me in the eyes again. "Come on, Gabe. It's not like I didn't expect it at all. I mean, the way you look at me sometimes."
I've never seen him more bothered. Even though he stood as tall and proud as the night I first saw him, when we found Dr. Tucker's body in the blood filled pool, his eyes gave him away. Like everyone else.
"Shopie, it's...it's just the way you handled this case. The way you hit the ground running with it. You were on vacation and there was nothing you wanted more than to help us...and me. I've never seen anyone on their feet like you. It's like you can pry right into the soul of anyone you talk to." He lowered his muzzle, the first time I've ever seen him do so. "If it weren't for you, I would've had to quarantine this boat for a month if I had to. You're just...I don't care that you are a human."
I leaned into him, my breasts nearly touching his upper abdomen. "I think you do."
"What?" he whispered, as if to silence a gasp. "Didn't you hear a thing I said?"
"Yes, Gabe." I trace the edge of his cuff with my finger. "But I think that's what you'd expect from human nature. Passion and brilliance that is. Is that something you envy? Or is it something you want to show you have?"
I felt Gabe large hand on mine, gently prying it from his cuff. Gabe's lips curled as his coal-like nose wrinkled. I gave another one of my sly grins. "Is that what you want to celebrate in me? That idea you have of human nature?" Gabe nodded fervently. "Then why don't you go through with it and take me into that bedroom?"
Gabe turned his eyes toward the sea. His voice seemed to hang as he spoke. "Because that's what they expect us to do. And I would have brought you to this hiding place for nothing." I put my hand on his. "No Gabe," I said. "We came here to do what we wanted. It was not hide from anyone but be alone with the one who could most appreciate our company. They want us to sleep with each other as a political statement or to skink to their level. But...I want to sleep with you because you're more of a man than just about all the human men I've met in my life." Gabe turned to me, his mouth slightly open. I continued. "I know why solving the murder of Dr. Tucker meant so much to you." I ran my hand up his brawny arms. "You wanted to prove him right. You wanted to show that it's not the fact that you're trapped in the body of a...very handsome buck..." I stroked both sides of his firm neck and rested my hands on his face. "...you want to be recognized, in this world, that you are every bit a human as your mind. And that you know it." His eyes began to glaze, but couldn't tell if it was out of joy or fury (or both).
"And you want someone who knows it too."
For a moment, the image of the young couple I had seen kissing in the lounge came to me. But it was absorbed into Gabe's muzzle as it swiftly caught my mouth.
He encircled me in his arms and forced my body backward. His lips seemed to grab at mine as we stuck together like two magnets. My arms pulled at his neck from behind as I lifted my hands to feel his head up to his definite antlers. It was then that I felt a hard movement below me. Part of it, I realized, was his buckhood beginning to press against my leg, which was now wrapped around Gabe's lower torso. But there was something else, it felt like a raging wind coming up my dress. It was getting intense, but I refused to let go of Gabe. That racing moon would be dipping under the waves soon and be followed be the sun, and Lima.
_ I had him now. I'm not letting go. Let the wind blow us away first._
I closed my eyes as I let his thin tongue into my mouth; I refrained from giggling as it tickled me. By far, it was different; it almost felt like my first time as a teenager. But it wasn't awkward, and I felt reassured by Gabe's control over our bodies. He knew how to please every inch he touched: my mouth, my breasts, my legs, and proceeding to my hair, neck, and ass. Still, that feeling of wind was getting stronger. It grew in such cold intensity that my skin was beginning hurt.
_ Is the world trying to quench this heat all of a sudden?_
I finally looked away when I felt the straps of my dress becoming undone--by themselves. Parting from Gabe's mouth, I discovered where the wind was coming from. Something was happening to the I-Shield for our promenade. The graphic displayed below the railing was lighting up red. There was an opening in the I-Shield, causing the intense velocity of the ship to pour on us. The shield was tearing, which was not uncommon on these ships and easily fixable, if tended to immediately. Undaunted, Gabe pushed me off, and pulled out his ship's badge. He scanned it through a barcode imprinted on the graphic and typed onto it "Problem Averted". When he was done, he grabbed me again, pulling me to a spot on the promenade where the wind wouldn't tear at my eyes. He looked at me with his intense browns, and they spelled out for me the words I had wanted.
No one is gonna interfere.
Then he tore at my straps and let me dress fly off against the wind. I did the same with his jacket and pants as we moved back into the room. There was little foreplay, it seemed like a nuisance. We'd kiss and touch, but we wanted nothing more than to get undressed as quickly as possible. It was as if our cloths had become part of the world's conspiracy and we tore at them with hatred. His dress shirt ripped as I hurled it over his antlers. Gabe returned the favor to my bra as he took it from me with his teeth. His now fully erect buckhood pressed against my thigh with unyielding demand.
The wind was filling the room. The covers on the bed flapped up. Appliances and paper few off the furniture, which rattled. The pictures on the walls, if they hadn't fallen, swayed like a ship on rough waters. I lowered myself to his waist and pulled off his boxershorts. His cock hit my face as it leapt from its prison of cloth. I had to admire it for a moment, it was a large, brown pack of buckhood. If it were anyone else, I would have shuddered at the thought of attempting to take it in me. But this was Gabe, and I wanted him to do this to me. Nothing was going to separate this union.
The feeling of Gabe's hand on my head snapped out of this contemplation and I moved my hands around its base and below his contracted balls, where his sheath had retreated. Then I placed my mouth at the head of his cock and began to slide it down. I wanted to get as much in as quickly as possible, going against my better judgment. His musky taste was enthralling and I worshiped him with my tongue and hand with such intensity I was afraid I'd tear at him next. But the steady motions of his hands on my head, and his knees bending backward prompted me to continue and go faster. I fondled his balls and stroked his buckhood when I lifted up. The wind muffled our voices, but I knew he was groaning in approval.
I went on for what felt like hours and I wouldn't have stopped if Gabe hadn't pulled me up and threw me on the bed. He flung my panties off and began to return the favor with his tongue. He started with my neck and worked his way down to my breasts. Gabe lapped at them with feverously. I think he admired their athletic build. When he was done, he went between my legs. His buck tongue was well suited for that purpose and he knew it. I screamed and held onto his antlers as he did so. The bed covers flapped above my head and I felt that I was in the center of a hurricane and only his antlers could anchor me.
Then Gabe parted his lips from my womanhood and ran his nose against my body as his head returned to mine. I wanted to push at him and yell at him to continue. But I froze when his cold, glazed eyes hovered over mine. His tall, muscular body seemed to flow over my slender figure, each ready to include the other in their build. Gabe's lips moved and I could hear his voice ringing in my head through the wisps of blowing air between our mouths.
"Sophie, I want you to look at me. You understand? The entire time I do this to you, I want you to look me in the eye, like you've been doing. Okay?"
I pressed my head against the pillow and nodded as I muttered "Yes". My heart raised and a shot of coldness went through my body as I felt Gabe's hand move between our hips to position his buckhood. I braced myself my grasping him between my arms tighter and tighter as I spread my legs further apart and wrapped them around him. Then he thrust into me. I yelled and wanted to bite his shoulder. But I kept my promise and I held his eyes as he began his rhythm. The pain was immense but his eyes settled me. With the wind blowing through our sheets, my hair and his fur, I felt like I was fusing with his body. Even as I ran my fingers through his fur, held onto his antlers, and grabbed ahold of his ass and tail, I kept my eyes locked on his. It was honest, and through the pain of his buckhood ramming in me, his glaze reassured me that I was in the embrace of a man.
What we were doing wasn't a statement for the sake of others, or sinking into depravity, it was love making between two beings joined by their honesty and consciousness. His eyes told me that he was as human as I was and that this was as natural as fate because of what we shared. As he picked up the pace, I let his grunts fall on my neck. The heat of his breath burned through the wind that was still thrashing at the room around us. Gabe slowly lowered himself on me as pushed his hips upward. He wanted to feel every inch of me at once, inside and out. My body was his temple, and he had come to worship and I was spellbound to feel him worship inside me.
I rubbed against his muscles and traced their outlines with my hands. When I felt Gabe's legs beginning to tremble, his face contorting, and his breath becoming more heated and intense, I knew he was close. My buck was fighting to keep him it up, flexing every muscle in my body. He didn't want to stop.
"Relax, Gabe." I muttered. "I'm ready."
I curved by body and flexed my womanhood. He gasped, like I he discovered me betraying him. Then he raised his head and get out a loud growl. I heard it. It pierced through sounds of gusts and things clanking. It was a deer's call. I joined him in the call as I felt his warmth spill into me.
*********
The wind finally slowed to a breeze when morning light broke. The ship was slowing down in the face of its destination. We were still in bed, and our pungent, mixed scents filled the room. I was resting my head on Gabe's arm, and he was still beaming at me. He'd been smiling since we finished and was as touchy and jittery as a high school boy.
"You know," I scoffed. "I kinda like your somber self better." He chuckled and kissed me. His kisses were so tender now. The ship's whistle sounded. We were approaching Lima, and fast.
"You better get ready," he said.
I pressed my hands against his chest and down his abdomen. "I can shower when I get to the hotel." I rested my head on him. "I just want to be here for now."
Gabe's face sank a little in concern. "You sure? You might smell like deer 'til you get there." I rolled my eyes, like he said something non-sensible. Letting his words fly by my head, I joked "I didn't know you could bend that way; or at all." His face lightened and he shook his head.
"You never stop in your teasing."
"You like it."
Gabe lowered my head to his chest. "At least get five minutes of sleep them." I didn't want to. I felt that I would never wake up.
But the familiar beat of his steady heart soothed me into a doze--that was broken by a large roar.
The entire ship shook. The sound of things falling over and crashing to the ground rang out. It was followed by sounds of screaming and jostling. Gabe sprung out of bed and pulled me to his side. We ran out onto the promenade. Looking over the railing, I saw a line of foam in the water running into the side of the ship's bow. It was a torpedo trial. The gaping hole in the side of the ship was quickly covered by water. The Generation was listing severely to port.
Gabe looked at me. His eyes were hollow.
He went to the graphic hanging from the railing. He punched in a code. S-I-N-K. There was a sound. "I'm opening the I-Shield." He barked. "Get ready to jump." Then he went back into the room and returned with a deflated lifebuoy. "We'll inflate this when we hit the water. Then we'll swim as fast away from the ship as we can!" Gabe grabbed my arm and pulled my glace close to his. "Hold onto me! Understand!"
The water was fast approaching our room. The _Generation_was going down fast. "Okay...Gabe..." My voice trailed. We climbed over the railing as the water swooshed up toward us.
"On three. One...Two..."
We hit the water from at least twenty feet. Gabe inflated the buoy. I grabbed onto to him and we kicked together. When we swam a good fifty feet before we stopped. We wanted to keep paddling, to just leave the ship and the sounds behind us. But we needed to save our strength.
We held onto each other. Gabe pressed me against his chest, but I tore my head away to look at the ship. Entire crowds were pouring over the upper decks, but only a few were getting past the I-Shield. There was a run on the lifeboats and escape projectiles, but they were tipping over or falling into the ocean. Gabe kept on shouting out the code he pressed into the graphic on the promenade at the top of his lungs. His voice trailed off and finally silenced when the ship dove under the waves.
It all took only fifteen minutes.
We were eventually picked up by the Peruvian Shore Guardians. When they pulled us out of the water, and placed us on the deck, someone took our picture. Gabe's naked body was encompassing me. His head leaning against mine. My head resting on his heart. I would see that photo like everyone else, when it served as the headline for every news publication in the world talking about the wreck of the_Generation_. It even won a Pulitzer.
_Why couldn't they have just let us sleep in? _
The End.