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If I Would...	By : quietann Category: M through R > Miles Vorkosigan Saga Views: 1351 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Miles Vorkosigan Saga, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Chapter 3
The following year was an odd one for Ges. He worked diligently in Ops, earning a few commendations but no hints that ship duty would accompany his next promotion. His duties were usually not too interesting, mostly keeping men, supplies, and weapons moving to where they needed to be. But Ges grew to appreciate the complexity of military operations. As he looked at who served with him, especially the other young men who, like himself, had barely slipped through the Imperial Service Academy, he appreciated that Ops existed in part to give them a chance to redeem themselves in the eyes of the military. And the older men, the veterans usually sent to Ops for a spell of light duty after being injured, had many good tales to tell over lunch. There was a certain camaderie among all these assorted, not-quite-good-enough characters.
Ges also took more than a little pride in one special task assigned to him by Major Olrent, an older man who seemed to take a special interest in his service. Olrent had put Ges in charge of arranging military honor guards for the funerals of veterans, when there weren't enough local men to make up the traditional twenty that were required. These days, the dead were usually veterans of the Cetagandan Wars that had ushered in Barrayar's reconnection to the rest of the universe. Something about making sure that those who had served Barrayar so forthrightly got full ceremonies when they died touched Ges. He often wondered how long would it be until no one would remain who remembered the Time of Isolation that had come before.
He became more reclusive, rarely going out drinking with his fellow officers, turning down more invitations than he accepted, especially not the endless string of events designed to allow young men and women to meet, before taking their preferences home to discuss with their parents. He would, of course, escort his sister if she asked him to; they both lived in the Vorbarr Sultana residence, as did his sister, who appreciated the familiar surroundings, especially because Aral was away on mission far more than he was in town. Count Vorrutyer retreated to the District in failing health, though he was rumored to be courting a local widow, a third cousin who shared the Vorrutyer surname, but none of its wealth.
Ges still went out to watch, though. He had his usual haunts, the out of the way corners people found to conduct their romantic affairs. He watched the same women at parties, he noticed the Vor buds in the street, innocently giggling over the young men who caught their fancies. He even discovered which parks to visit, and when, to observe men who were strangers to one another meeting up for quick, anonymous encounters. And if all else failed, there was an endless series of establishments in the Caravanserai where he could, for a small fee, see a more deliberate and blatant show. He felt like he knew the real Vorbarr Sultana, the city beneath all the puritanical pretense.
But he did not watch his sister anymore. To be truthful, after she'd revealed that she knew he was watching her, he'd become somewhat less interested in her, but not enough to actually turn away. Even her astounding proposition had not stopped him. Only after her wedding night with Aral did Ges stop watching her completely. Even when she was alone -- which she was, most of the time -- it just reminded him too much of Aral. The few times he'd tried, he'd found himself impotent, during and after.
He took to going for long walks late at night when he couldn't sleep. Or sitting on the bench in Vorrutyer House's walled garden, brooding, wondering where Aral was, what he was doing, when he'd return. When Aral was in town, Ges dined with him and his sister, but there was unspoken strain beneath their light banter. If his sister guessed anything, she kept quiet about it.
On one of his night walks, when he returned and let himself into the garden, he found that the bench was occupied. The light was on in his sister's room, which had the only big window in the otherwise fortress-like Vorrutyer Residence. Ges could only imagine how precious the window glass to fit the window had been, back in the Time of Isolation. As he gazed up, Ges had a sudden insight -- that perhaps old Pierre Le Sanguinaire had a reason for starting the tradition of reserving that bedroom for the most beautiful young lady of the house. His ancestor seemed to have designed the house meticulously, and even the garden itself was a reflection of this; it was on the side of the house closest to the caravanserai, to serve as a buffer between the rabble and the Vorrutyer family. Ges shrunk back, curious about who the young man on the bench might be, especially since the fellow also stared up towards the window with a look of expectation.
And so he discovered that his sister's explorations of exhibitionism had taken a new turn. She was at the window, first fully clothed, then turning away, giving a gentle shrug, and letting the top of her dress slide off. Her moves were the same Ges remembered watching from his bolthole in their closet -- but now she had a better audience than just a mirror. The same cupping her breasts, stroking her body, even that exact same nipple-flicking gesture he remembered from the engagement party. The difference now was that once she was fully nude, she didn't move away to the bed, away from the audience she must have known she had. Rather, she leaned her head against the glass, curled in at the waist, and let one hand slide down between her legs as she pulled at her nipples with the other. Her expression softened and tensed, softened and tensed, until finally she shuddered against the window.
For the first time since her marriage, Ges was deeply aroused, but more from watching the fellow on the bench, who'd undone his trousers and was stroking himself covertly. It was now obvious that his sister had given the man a key to let himself into the garden. Ges coughed softly, and the man whipped around, while simultaneously trying to rebutton his pants. Before the man could flee, Ges caught his eye. "It's OK," he said. "You like my sister, so?"
"I didn't mean her any dishonor... nor you, nor her husband," the man stammered. Now Ges recognized him as a young lord from a lesser branch of one of the Vor families, Jonas Vorwyn, a shiftless, romantic "man about town" who was gaining quite a reputation with the ladies. Indeed, Ges had seen his sister chatting familiarly with him at various parties.
By High Vor standards, it was now Ges's solemn duty to tear Lord Vorwyn to pieces, but he felt strangely disinclined to do so. Rather, he maneuvered himself to block the way to the garden gate, Lord Vorwyn's easiest escape route, and asked, "Is this all you want from her?"
"No... no. If I could have more of her..."
"You might be able to. Her husband is away more often than not, and she's lonely and often bored." Ges had recently found her softly weeping, and she'd poured out her frustrations to him, in far more detail than a sister normally would have confided to a brother. But normal was the last word to apply to her, or to Ges, or to their relationship, for that matter. "And she is a very... highly sexed young woman, as I am sure you can see. It's a pity to see her so neglected."
"No, no... I couldn't. I mean, she is married to Aral Vorkosigan," Lord Vorwyn said in astonishment. "That's like two steps away from being married to the Emperor."
"I know Aral... very well." You clearly don't know just how well. "I was his Second at their wedding, we were bunkmates in the Imperial Service Academy. He is a good man, brave, honorable, bound for glory. But his weakness -- every man has one -- is that in his personal affairs, he refuses to see what he does not want to see. It is a weakness that could work to your advantage." Lord Vorwyn raised his eyebrows, as it finally hit him just what Ges was saying. "Look, at least let me talk with her, and get back to you. I won't mention you by name, just find out if she might have time for a man with more... availability than her husband."
Lord Vorwyn still looked reluctant, but Ges knew that he was weak and easily influenced, with the image of his beautiful sister fresh in his mind. So Ges pressed him further. "Let me. It would be as much a favor to her as to you." Finally, he won the man's permission.
A few days later, his sister invited Ges up to her sitting room "for a private chat." They sat in two padded chairs, from which they could see into the bedroom. "You're using the sheets I gave you," Ges observed mildly.
"Well, it seems silly to save them for Aral when he's barely here to appreciate them."
"Yes," said Ges with more than a little sympathy. He was missing Aral quite a bit these days, too. "There are several... situations off-planet, any one of which could become a full-blown war with very little notice. I don't think he'll be home much at all for a while."
"I want him back." His sister's voice was plaintive. "I know you wanted us to marry, but you were such good friends, surely you knew this would happen, that he would be away most of the time."
"I wanted you to marry because I thought you'd be good together. Do you remember him visiting us when I was at boarding school?"
"Yes. He seemed.... sad, and so uncomfortable. I suppose it was hard for him to be around a regular family, since he'd lost all of his own except his father."
"It was just a few years after the war... He doesn't say much about it, but what he does say would give me nightmares. I came to know Aral... much better after we started at the Imperial Service Academy. And you, I've known you since you were a tiny baby," he said fondly, remembering the day when he'd first been allowed to meet his new sibling. Even then she had been beautiful. "I'm sorry you are so unhappy, but what can I do to make things better? Ship duty doesn't last forever; Aral has such a good mind for strategy that sooner or later they'll pin him to a desk here in Vorbarr Sultana as a military advisor."
His sister was silent, but the look on her face nearly broke Ges's heart. Whatever his intentions, whatever his hopes for Aral's company, he'd also hoped that the couple would be happy. He was struck with a deep sense of melancholy.
Then she lowered her head for a moment, as if to weep. When she looked at Ges again, she spoke directly. "I've decided to have an affair."
Now this was a surprise -- a convenient one, for Ges. He'd had no idea if his sister would be open to the idea; even with her... habits... she had to have a sense of shame somewhere. And if she was willing to have an affair, maybe she wouldn't mind if Aral had one too? But it's not like she needs a boyfriend to have her fun, he thought, recalling the performance he and Jonas Vorwyn had witnessed. Just an admirer.
Ges decided to get right to the point. "Tell me, with young Lord Vorwyn?"
"How did you guess?" She sounded genuinely taken aback.
"I've seen you talking with him at parties. And he's certainly a handsome enough fellow. And... we met, a few nights ago, in the garden." He tilted his head towards the big window in her bedroom. "Someone must have given him the key," Ges teased.
His sister blushed furiously. "You saw... everything?"
"Yes. It wasn't such a surprise, I know you're a naughty girl sometimes." The little bit of flirtation relaxed her, perhaps letting her know that she would not be judged by him.
"He's not the only one, you know."
"Two men! Two affairs! Goodness. I'd say you need to get the both of them into your bed before the locksmith gets curious about how many garden keys you're handing out!"
"So you're giving me your blessing?"
"Of course, dear one. Unlike your pious husband, you are of the correct gender to have affairs with men." It had just slipped out, and it immediately felt like a betrayal. Ges did not want to get into this territory with his sister, not yet. He'd always thought that when the time came, he'd present his "sharing" proposal to Aral first, and only say anything to his sister if Aral seemed willing.
"I didn't know anything about that!" his sister said angrily. "Did you... how could you...."
With some difficulty, Ges recovered his nerve. "Oh, I think it was just a schoolboy's passing fancy. You know, locking up all us young men in military school, with no women at all, does strange things to our morals, but marriage usually cures us. It's just that with Aral... I don't know. It's not much different on space duty, lots of tension, no women, and the command structure is willing to look the other way, as long as a man is discreet." There. A good deflection. And maybe it will help her justify her own actions...
Whatever outrage his sister felt, it seemed, only fueled her own desires. It took her no time at all to bring her new lovers inside, so to speak. The second man turned out to be the somewhat older Andros Vortorren, an unmarried high government minister who nonetheless found time for an active social life. He lacked Jonas Vorwyn's physical attractiveness, but certainly outdid the younger man in personality and wits. And he'd had years of experience with married Vor women, and knew how to fade into the background when a husband wanted to keep his wife to himself.
style="width: 60%; height: 2px; font-family: Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;"> Ges started to watch his sister again, when she had her men friends over. Watching her with a man other than Aral was extremely arousing to Ges. Yes, there was a bit of pleasure taken in the revenge against Aral that the affairs wrought, but Ges watched mostly because his sister enjoyed herself so much, and in so many ways.
One evening, they attended a party at which both of his sister's lovers were present. They were well aware of one another, and oddly non-competitive for her attentions. Andros Vortorren, certainly, had enough other interesting women in his life to be able to work around Jonas Vorwyn's schedule. And that young man seemed so overwhelmed just by the fact that Ges's sister had taken him on that he was desperate to please her. He was a bit dim, but he knew well enough that she would not tolerate jealousy.
Ges wandered through the party talking with people he knew and admiring the gowns the ladies had adopted as the latest fashion. It seemed that his sister had been very forward-thinking with her revealing wedding dress, because similar necklines were now popular all over Vorbarr Sultana. A woman leaning forward to bring her companion in close for a private word could reel him in with a rather lovely view. Ges got more than a few glimpses just by knowing who to chat up and knowing what sort of gossip would bring his target up close. But there was no girl like his sister; not only was her profile luscious, but she knew better than most how to work with her dress for maximum effect -- and rather than giggling and blushing like an innocent, as if she really had no idea what she was doing, she genuinely enjoyed knowing the exact effect she had on her companions. In other words, she was not an amateur, and did not pretend to be one.
Mid-evening, he headed over towards the chaise where his sister was chatting with her lovers. He was ready to leave, and he figured that a few simple words would let his sister know that she should pick tonight's favored one quickly. As he approached the trio from behind, she said, rather emphatically, "But I don't think I should have to choose between you tonight."
Whatever was she about, and why did Andros Vortorren lick his lips in response? Ges shrank back into a darker spot, where he could overhear whatever negotiations were happening.
"Milady, you should not have to choose, I agree," Vortorren said.
Jonas Vorwyn, not surprisingly, looked extremely confused. "Now, Vortorren, there's really only room for one of us." His tone was friendly but challenging.
Andros Vortorren parried this nicely. "You think so? You really do? Our lady might disagree."
"Oh, I think I do!" she exclaimed, as she did something with her shoulders that made both men raise their eyebrows.
Ges and Jonas Vorwyn probably twigged to what was being proposed at exactly the same moment. It was only from being so experienced at watching that Ges was able to keep silent as he observed the young man boggle. "I ... think I start to see." Jonas Vorwyn's tone changed from reluctant to eager in just those few words.
"Well, it is a delicate bit of balancing we'll have, then. I think you both could use some ... instruction this evening." Vortorren's voice was positively silken in its persuasion.
"We should find Ges to summon the groundcar," his sister said urgently, as she put a small hand on each man's thigh and worked her fingers upward.
As they rose, Ges gave a soft cough and stepped forward. Something in his expression must have conveyed to his sister that he'd overheard their previous negotiations, because she gave him a rather knowing grin before she spoke. "Ges, my dear, could you get the groundcar for us? We three will be retiring to Vorruyter House presently, to have a ... private discussion." The tone of invitation in her voice was unmistakable.
And so it was that Ges got to watch his sister with both her lovers at once. Andros Vortorren did, in fact, take the upper hand, and coached Jonas Vorwyn and Ges's sister into a variety of activities. He stood back and watched the younger couple, only occasionally leaning in to lend his fingers or his lips to their efforts -- until a certain point, when he quickly stripped and joined them. Ges saw that his sister was up to the challenge of two men, though it was all distracting enough for her that she wasn't able to slip Ges, behind the grille where she knew he was, as many smiles as she normally would have. But to Ges, it didn't matter, because she was so clearly and finally overwhelmed by their attentions.
style="width: 60%; height: 2px; font-family: Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;"> As Ges had predicted, Barrayar's precarious military and political situation kept Aral away from Vorbarr Sultana. This meant that the first anniversary of his marriage to Ges's sister went uncelebrated, leaving the young woman in tears, unconsolable by her lovers or even by Ges himself. When Aral was next in town, for Winterfair two months later, there was an unmistakable chill between them, even though Aral tried mightily to make it up to her. Things finally reached a breaking point over dinner one evening, when Aral told his wife that in a few days, he'd be departing on mission once again.
Ges had tried to counsel his sister in patience, but once again, just as dessert was being served, she pointedly inquired of Aral, "So how long will you be gone this time, a month? Two, six? Will our next anniversary come and go just like this one did?"
"How many times do I have to say I can't tell you? Even if I knew, I couldn't tell you. It's all State's secrets at this point," Aral snapped in return.
"So what do you expect of me? Shall I start looking for a boyfriend to keep me warm this winter?" Ges winced at his sister's snide tone. He'll guess, dear one, if you keep going with this. Aral looked ready to explode, and Ges knew they were getting into dangerous territory. Given his -- very different -- contributions to their respective unhappiness, he didn't want to be in the middle of the detonation.
Ges cleared his throat and got up from the table. "Excuse me, I think maybe you should discuss this without me." He had one more look at his sister before he left the room, and saw that her rage was directed at him as much as at Aral. He felt terrible for abandoning her, but if he stayed he doubted he could keep her, or Aral's, secrets any longer.
As he ran down the hall, he heard Aral saying, "You wouldn't think of dishonoring me like that." Ges was suddenly filled with pain, reflecting the pain he heard in Aral's voice. He didn't want to hear this row, but he didn't think he should be far away. One or both of these unhappy souls was likely to turn to him at the end of it. He took a chair near the door that led to the old house's courtyard, and waited.
It was Aral who found him first, a few minutes later. His shoulders slumped, and he looked utterly shattered. Ges stood up and blocked his way. "Where are you going?"
"To my father. I need his advice for this; I never could have imagined how terrible she feels." Aral ducked his head a little bit and continued in a much softer voice, "Or how I feel. Blighted. Like Vorkosigan Vashnoi, all aglitter, so wonderful, but when one gets too close, just poison." And then, much to Ges's shock, Aral fell into his arms, sobbing. It sent Ges's memories back to the last time they'd been together, in the Emperor's gardens, when Aral had sobbed just like this, and then called him 'a special fuck' and shown him exactly how special. He wondered, idly, if Aral was so vulnerable this time around.
When Aral recovered enough composure to speak, he said, "Come with me, Ges."
They were silent all the way to Vorkosigan House. Aral parked the lightflyer and asked Ges to stay with it. Before he went to his father, his eyes softened slightly, and he leaned back in to say to Ges, "I have no idea what my father will say. But you... whatever it is, you're keeping my heart for me right now." He brushed his lips across Ges's forehead, and it felt like being kissed with fire.
At that moment, if he could have, Ges would have leapt out of the lightflyer and grabbed the figure striding away from him, and flown them both off to... where? He'd nearly forgotten what his need for Aral could be like. Keeping his own counsel -- "Patience, patience, patience..." echoing through his mind -- was easy enough when Aral was gone, and even when he was in town, as long as his sister and Aral were getting along. But this unexpected time alone with Aral was close to unbearable.
So is this a test he's giving me, or a come-on? No way to find out but to try....
Aral returned about half an hour later, white around the lips and hunched over. He settled into the lightflyer with a huge sigh.
"Tell me what he said?" Ges offered tentatively.
"Perhaps. But we could both use a drink first. I want to take you somewhere different."
Aral sped the lightflyer over Vorbarr Sultana and beyond, over fields white with snow. He finally landed just over the border into Vormuir's district, in front of a little pub that had to be the only drinking establishment for miles around. Ges was surprised at the number of flyers parked outside, and the lack of farm wagons or other more plebian vehicles. Vormuir's district had been the first to be completely terraformed, and nearly all the foodstuffs for Vorbarr Sultana came from its rich agriculture.
Aral, with a courtly bow, opened the door of the pub for Ges, who was now really wondering what the hell Piotr had told his son to do. The interior was softly lit and warm, and men stood at the bar counter where a large, friendly-looking woman pulled cider from a tap, or huddled in pairs around little tables.
There were no women here other than the barkeep. Piotr didn't tell his son to bring us here.
Aral stopped at the counter to collect two ciders for them. "Lis," he said, and she held up a hand in greeting.
"Haven't seen you here in a while, Aral. But I guess you're a married man now..."
"So I am. And this," he said as he put an arm around Ges's shoulders, "is my brother-in-law Ges Vorrutyer." Lis gave them a barely contained look of astonishment.
Aral dropped several extra marks on the counter and pointed his chin towards a quiet table in a darker corner. Lis swept up the money with a little "go-ahead" nod. "What is this place?" Ges whispered?
"A place for men like you. Surprised you haven't heard of it; half the men here are Imperial Service." Ges looked around and immediately identified two men he knew from Ops, and a few others he sometimes observed in a certain park in Vorbarr Sultana. OK, Aral was right; he should have known about this place. But why the hell had Aral brought him here? They settled on benches on the opposite sides of their designated table.
"And is it a place for men like you, Aral?" Ges's tone was lightly mocking.
"It ... hasn't been. At least since I married your sister. Now ... I don't know. It might be. Later. But for you, unhindered by a wife..."
Ges brushed off Aral's hint of casual infidelity. That had never been important, when they were together, and it wasn't like they had had much time for other partners during their brief home leaves from the Imperial Service Academy. Or rather, they'd been too busy with each other to care to look for any hidden options. Instead, he focused on the deep uncertainty in Aral's voice, and the visceral want behind it.
"So how did you find out about it?"
Aral gave him an ironic grin. "Jeroen Vorkalloner."
"What? That little two-bit sneak who called my mother a whore?"
"Indeed, the very one, our splendid hypocrite. I'd be surprised that he's not here tonight, except I know he's out on ship duty right now."
"You didn't ... sleep with him , did you?" That would not be in the category of forgivable, casual infidelity, given Jeroen's insults.
"Please, no! He's scum. And I wouldn't, ah, fuck scum."
"Present company excepted?"
"You, Ges, are not scum." Aral's eyes were glittering.
"What am I then?" Ges asked lowly.
Aral stood, and whipped a curtain Ges hadn't noticed before in front of their table, to block the view from the rest of the pub. Ges gasped as Aral pinned him on the bench and breathed into his ear, "My temptation, my vice, my heart, my love." Aral's hands were all over him, and then Aral's mouth, nipping at his neck and then moving lower... Ges practically ripped his tunic and undershirt getting them over his head, and started to slide one hand under Aral's tunic, and the other hand down. There was white-hot passion here, and it wouldn't take much to....
And then, just as quickly as it started, it was over. Aral was sitting on the bench on the other side of the table with his head in his hands, breathing hard and muttering "can't do it... no, can't, can't do it..." over and over again.
Ges knew enough to stay on his own bench. But he reached a hand across the table, and as Aral looked up and took it in both of his hands, he asked, "What can't you do?"
"This. Or ... I could, but ... I can't. Not anymore." Aral took a deep breath, and stood. "Let's go back to Vorbarr Sultana."
They unrumpled themselves as best as they could. The bartender gave them a sad look as they left, and as they got to the lightflyer, Aral said, "Lis knows everything that happens, or doesn't happen, here. I'm being terrible to you, and I'd tell you to turn around and go pour your heart out to her, but I don't think I should be flying alone right now."
They traveled in silence, almost until they were back in Vorbarr Sultana. Then Aral spoke. "My father told me ... that your sister -- my wife -- needs to be put in her place. Forced to see that she is a grown woman now, who has to sacrifice some trivial happiness for our security and the future of our House, not some silly young maiden who thinks that marriage is all romance."
"So you should give her a good talking to?" Ges knew that wouldn't be enough to bring her in line, and Piotr most likely knew it too. "Or something else?"
"He said that I should... rape ... take her. With force. And do it again, every day I'm home, to get her with child as quickly as I can. B... beat her if she's uncooperative."
Ges was sickened. "And you are actually going to do it?" Aral had set his jaw and didn't answer him, and Ges decided that maybe he didn't want to know. He definitely did not want to be in Vorrutyer House tonight. "Aral, drop me off at Ops. I can bunk there, I'll borrow a uniform from someone in the morning."
style="width: 60%; height: 2px; font-family: Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;"> He stayed away for a day or two, then went back to retrieve his own kit and visit his sister. She didn't answer when he knocked at the door of her and Aral's suite of rooms. The next two days, when he dropped by, there was still no answer, although one of the servants assured Ges that although his sister had taken ill, and asked that no one but Aral be with her, she would be recovered soon. Ges could only wonder from what.
Winterfair season was in full swing, and there was an endless series of parties and balls to attend, but Ges skipped them all, feeling no joy of the season. Word got back to him that Aral was spotted at a few of them, without his wife. Ges stayed at Ops, burying himself in work and trying not to think about what might have happened between Aral and his sister.
Finally, the night before Aral was to leave, Ges was invited over for dinner. This was a celebratory occasion as well as an attempt to patch things up; Aral's quick work in a tricky spaceship mutiny had earned him a promotion to lieutenant. Aral and his wife were waiting in the dining room for him when he arrived at Vorrutyer House. Ges gave them both a once-over and was surprised to find no signs of tension; in fact they were holding hands and smiling at one another. Aral beckoned him to sit at his other hand, and the dinner turned out to be pleasant. Ges's sister was charming and funny, telling little jokes that made both Ges and Aral roar with laughter. The addition of a couple of bottles of very good wine -- "Courtesy of my father," Aral informed him -- only made things more enjoyable.
When they had finished and were enjoying a Vorkosigan-provided dessert wine, Ges's sister asked him, "Did you know that Aral could draw?"
"Of course. His engineering drawings were the envy of everyone when we were in the Service Academy."
"No, I mean draw people ! He's really quite good." Aral was smiling, though somewhat embarrassed by his wife's praise. She turned to him and beamed at him, full of pride. "Would it be OK... um, sweetheart, could we show Ges the drawings you did of me last evening?" Aral nodded, and the three of them went up to their sitting room.
The drawings were, in fact, lovely. Most were nudes, which probably explained Aral's embarrassment. The hand was less certain than Ges had seen used on Aral's technical drawings, but his sister's essence was captured nonetheless. "She's right, you know, Aral. I never would have guessed."
"Oh, I used to want to be an artist, when I was a boy." Aral's voice shook a little as he asked, "Ges, could I get a few of you while you're here?"
"I'm assuming... not nudes." Ges knew he was tweaking Aral slightly, but it was all in good humor, and he was so relieved to find that the couple had made up with each other. His sister giggled, while Aral merely smiled, and gestured to Ges to sit in a chair near his easel. "Do I need to pose?" he asked.
"Preferably not. Darling, tell your brother a few more of your jokes. He's at his best when he's laughing."
Aral was right, as it turned out. Ges admired the first drawing, which showed him laughing so hard that one could almost see the curly hair Aral had drawn bobbing. A couple more quick sketches were dispatched, made better by his sister's happiness over them, and then Ges stopped Aral. "Can we try something different?"
"Yes," Aral said, in the same shaky voice as before.
Ges stood and took off his jacket so he was wearing just his uniform pants and crisp, white buttoned undershirt. He rolled up the sleeves to the elbows. Then he splayed out on a chaise and lounged back in it with his eyes half-open and his hands behind his neck. He pouted slightly. He imagined himself and Aral back in their Academy days, when a pose like this meant only one thing, and caught Aral in his gaze. Aral coughed and reddened, but went ahead with a new sketch, and the result was utterly compelling. Every line of muscle beneath Ges's clothes showed, and a few deft strokes made his arousal obvious if one knew what to look for. Ges could imagine Aral taking a holo of it to carry with him, and wished that his own drawing skills were good enough that he could get a similarly emotionally naked image of Aral to carry in turn.
In the process of making this drawing, Ges and Aral had locked their eyes on each other. His sister had vanished out of Ges's mind, as he watched Aral chew his lip slightly and return the gaze. It was only when his sister nervously exclaimed how the new drawing was "my very favorite!" that the spell between them broke.
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