I seriously loved my job, despite it consisting of me sitting like veal in a booth all day long. What I loved was the part where I got to watch the man of my dreams on that monitor and through the glass window in front of me. Every day, all day long.
Except now, I was seriously not looking forward to having to watch the man of my dreams fuck some woman even though the brass thought it would save his life.
He had been genetically engineered to be the perfect man and perfect soldier. He was their twenty-third try and the one that looked like he was going to make it. The others hadn't made it to this stage, having never achieved consciousness after they came out of the incubators. This one, KLT23, had been exceeding expectations from the very beginning. Until he'd gotten this illness they couldn't identify and couldn't cure. Until Dr. Miles came up with the theory that KLT23 needed to get laid like Spock had in that Star Trek episode. Fuck or die. And in came the women.
I called him Kelty in my head, and I was growing to enjoy his method of telling these bastards he very much did not want yet another naked woman brought into his domain. This last one had walked in stark naked, gone straight for his bed, laid down and spread her damn legs. In the air! I'd held my breath in horror as he'd gone over there, but he'd grabbed her by her hair and encouraged her to get the hell out.
She'd just left, sobbing, and I watched him stalk back over to his bed and flop down. His gorgeous dick rested against his abs and he stroked it almost absently, closing his fevered blue eyes with a loud sigh. My dick grew that much harder as I watched him. He'd been walking around naked and hard as a rock for three days now. Three fucking days! And I got to watch him for every hour of my shift. It was like some kind of superhero porn channel. Except... I sighed yet again, staring and feeling that niggle of worry swim around in my gut. They said his brain wouldn't be able to take much more of the fever. If they didn't figure this out, he would die and it would be horrible. The most amazing man I'd ever known and I might have to sit out here and watch him die.
It wasn't just that KLT23 was a physical embodiment of everything masculine and drool-worthy. He was smart as all hell, a really quick learner, had a huge stubborn streak, and a wiseass sense of humor that always cracked me up.
He'd picked up six languages already and got a kick out of having a Russian day or a Farsi day where he'd only speak that language regardless of how much they yelled at him to knock it off. He read the military biographies they gave him so fast that I was having trouble keeping up with reading the same books at home in my off hours. I didn't know why I bothered since they'd never actually let me talk to him about them. Well, I guess I just wanted something to connect us more than me staring at him for eight hours a day. More than him occasionally staring back.
Like now. He watched me, sweat on his brow and cheeks pink, looking so alone. I wanted to go in there and give those amazing lips a reason to smile. He kept making me want to take care of him like I'd never wanted to with anyone else. And we'd never said a word to each other, so that was just...pathetic.
I sighed and tried to refocus on the conversation happening beside me.
"This isn't working," General Derringer said, rubbing the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "Why the hell isn't this working?"
"I think I have a theory," Miles said, and I couldn't help leaning a little closer to hear. I loved how that little nerd's brain worked.
"Well?" Dr. Rudolph asked impatiently, his face flushed like a wino at Christmas.
"I don't think he likes women."
I nearly fell off my fucking chair.
Rudolph, apparently, couldn't believe it either. "Why wouldn't he like women? He's perfect!"
"Just think about it for a minute," Miles went on, warming to his subject. "He's not rebelling against orders here like he did early on when he was testing limits. The only thing he's rebelling against here is the women. Bring one in, tell him what he's supposed to do, and he goes ballistic. They aren't what he wants. I think, yes, he is perfect and, therefore, he's attracted to similar perfection."
Well, I'll be damned. That made all kinds of sense. Sort of. Made me happy, anyway. Guess Kelty and I might have something to connect us after all.
"So we send in some equally impressive man," Derringer said like he was tired as hell, "and he'll be all over him?"
I shivered, getting a 'you okay?' look from my fellow guard, Private Andre Washington. If I got any more okay, I might shoot in my pants.
Miles said, "It's worth a try."
Rudolph snorted. "So what? We just send in one of these soldiers with an order to be gay for a few minutes?"
I turned my laugh into a cough, but I don't think they noticed.
"I think," Miles said, "to be most effective, we should send in a gay man."
The general snorted. "And where are we supposed to find a gay soldier?"
The words popped out of my mouth before I'd fully formed the thought.
"Right here, sir."
All three of them and Washington turned to stare at me.
I stood, thinking maybe seeing how well I stacked up when compared to the perfection in the other room might help get things moving along. At six-three and one hundred eighty pounds of muscle, physically I was damn close to Kelty's six-six and two-ten of the same. He wasn't my usual hook up--I gravitated toward slender and pretty--but yeah, I'd do damn near anything to get in there with him and save his life, if I could.
And, yes, I'd just outed the hell out of myself, but I seriously doubted they were giving a damn about rules while in a secret bunker conducting super secret experiments in human genetics.
"You're...volunteering?" Derringer asked, his fuzzy white eyebrows merging with his fuzzy white hairline.
Damn straight! "Yes, sir."
Private Washington made a sound like helium escaping from a balloon. I looked down at his dark face to see him grinning with surprise and mirth. At least it wasn't hostility.
"What's your name again?" the general asked, firing up his little computer.
"Sergeant Horatio Muir, sir."
They huddled around Derringer's screen, no doubt scrolling through my service record, background check, health records and whatever the hell else these people had gathered about me prior to and during my assignment here.
I glanced down at Washington again, now finding him frowning. He tapped at the monitor in front of him, and I frowned too.
Every single thing Kelty and I would do in there would be recorded in full Technicolor with stereo sound. I wasn't exactly shy about a public performance, but the fact that it would be viewed live left me a little cold. And Washington definitely didn't look like he was anticipating the show either.
"I have a condition, sirs."
All three looked over at me, spectacles reflecting the lights.