Viral Love

I hated to awaken him, I really did. He lay on the bed like a slumbering god, sheet artfully flung over his cock but leaving one entire leg and the rest of his beautiful body to my view. I could stare at him for hours and not tire of it. But, we needed another good meal and to slink out of town before the sun really came out.

I leaned over him. “Valentine,” I said softly.

His eyes popped open. He sat up and released a breath. “What time is it?”

“And hour and a half to dawn,” I informed. “I had them bring us breakfast.”

He dressed and joined me at the food. To my pleasure, he had an appetite this morning. I handed him our money, which he took without a word. I’d made my point last night, after all. He might be the outdoorsman, but I was the experienced city boy.

Jesus, his hair looked soft and shiny. It wanted to fall back into those almost-dreads, those odd spikes, though, so I knew that was just the way nature treated him. But, he gleamed with cleanliness, energy and health, just the way I wanted to see him.

He needed a cloak again, and those odd, metal boots.

“I feel good this morning,” he volunteered. “Did you give me a massage or did I dream that?”

“I worked the kinks out of your back,” I admitted, feeling the bottle of oil and the bottle of anal lube in my only pocket. He really needed to put more pockets in his clothing. “You have one leg a quarter of an inch smaller than the other. I’m surprised you don’t have a lopsided stride.”

“You’re a chiropractor too?” he asked, with a sneer in his lovely, raspy voice. “Is there no end to your talents?”

“As far as you’re concerned, no,” I told him, pouring a cup of tea. “I’m brilliant, Valentine, a fucking genius in medicine and bio-genetics. You’d do well to bank on me in those areas.”

He looked at me as if he’d never, ever heard me brag, which couldn’t be true. I bragged as often as possible. No one else ever praised me, and I had an ego-quota to fill.

Seeming reluctant, Valentine nodded. “You are a smart man,” he admitted.

“Thank you, yes, I am.” I sipped my tea.

He burst out laughing, shocking me. “And so modest,” he added, clearly amused. “It isn’t like you had to work for your intelligence.”

He had a point. I’d always been smart. “No one just handed me degrees I didn’t work for,” I replied wryly.

“How many do you actually have and how many do you pretend to have?” he asked, smirking.

“I have nine medical degrees, a philosophy degree, and a professorial degree,” I answered coolly. “I have chemistry, mathematics, biology and botany degrees, too.”

Valentine rolled his eyes. “Yet, there’s room in that head for insanity,” he said, proving he had no regard for my accomplishments or natural intelligence.

I almost told him I had room in my ass for his cock, but then decided not to be deliberately combative. Just because he was in a mood to argue didn’t mean I had to oblige him. Besides, I liked seeing him back to his snap and snarl, especially since he would actually talk to me now.

I finished my tea. “So, upwards to North Corel?” I asked.

“Yes.” Valentine drank an entire pitcher of milk before finishing all the food left.

What an appetite. I wondered what had it stimulated so much.

We left in a timely fashion, but not until after I’d made him pause for a few purchases. I bought a pipe and some more drugs from the flop house, then bought cigarettes and a knife to replace the one I’d lost. I then took our money and left Valentine outside a fabric shop, and inquired where I would find a cloak for him.

“For that guy?” the woman asked, squinting to look out the window. “Huh.” She stared at him a long moment. “He never paid me for the one I made him six years ago.”

“What?” Startled, I reached for the money. “Do you still have it?”

“I couldn’t sell that thing to anyone else,” she replied smartly. “You want to pay for it and collect?”

“I most certainly will. How much?”

“Three thousand gil.” The sales clerk started rummaging around in a box. “It’s heavy velvet, after all.”

I paid her. We had two thousand gil left. I needed to pick a few more pockets on the way out of this port.

She gave me the bag and I saw that signature red with mixed feelings. He’d probably feel better having this thing, and it would protect him a little, but it also made him stick out like a sore thumb. It would hide his face from me, too.

I managed to pick a wealthy man’s pocket on the way out the door of the fabric shop. Hurrying, I grabbed Valentine by the arm. “Quick,” I said. “Where might an arms and ammo place be located?”

“We don’t have enough money for-.”

“We do now. Where?” I tugged him into an alley.

“There are laws and waiting periods for handguns. We don’t have time,” he argued.

Fine. I’d do this without his negativity. I stopped a boy and asked him. He told me two blocks toward the center of the port, so I started walking with Valentine complaining all the way. It was too dangerous. It was a useless attempt. We needed to get out of the port. We needed to be careful. We needed to avoid people.

I walked into the arms shop, and despite himself, Valentine couldn’t help but follow. I knew he’d not be able to resist, once here. “We need a good rifle,” I told the man behind the counter.

“A sniper rifle,” Valentine amended. “Do you have one from the CR series?”

“Yep.” The man took a long, impressive gun from the wall and set it down before us. “Sniper CR-1016. Longer range than any on the market. I won’t take anything less than twelve thousand gil.”

I saw my companion looking longingly at the rifle. “Sold,” I told the man. I counted out the gil. “Give us two boxes of ammo, please.”

In less than ten minutes we were walking toward the outskirts of the port.

“You must have stolen a lot more money,” Valentine commented, stoking the rifle barrel. He’d bought a strap for the gun to make carrying it easier.

I counted what we had left. We had a good seven thousand gil’s worth of ease in my pocket. “A rich man,” I informed. “He won’t miss it.” I tossed the identification and kept the wallet. “Here, I paid off one of your forgotten debts.” I handed him the bag with the cloak.

Valentine stopped dead. He took the garment out and shook it. “I remember ordering this thing,” he mused. “No wonder the shop looked familiar.” He donned his beautiful new cloak. I saw him smile right before his lips disappeared behind red velvet.

I had to admit, he looked more himself now. He seemed more at ease, too. Well, good for him. A happy Vincent Valentine pleased me very much.