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H.O.M.E. 9
by Fin
finslandofgayart.blogspot.com
Slim was dancing up a storm in the middle of The V.I.B. Lounge of The Exo Club as usual. To say that the alien had taken to his new Umon form, would have been understatement from Underwear Ethernight. In fact, the Slime Lord was spending more and more time this way, enchanted with the sensations of being a man, and the heat The Fever awoke within his alien soul.
The slime monster, grinding with a half dozen Sam clones, to the audience of even more alien onlookers however, was not exactly the outcome Franklin Blade had in mind when he had agreed to let the violet blob merge their beings. But a month hence since that fateful night, there was a lot that had not gone the ret. admiral's way. He and the rest of these Sams were still residing within the garish rainbow walls of The Exo Club, and the man had still not found his real missing son.
But despite these setbacks, there was still one bright new star flickering through the clouds of the ether.
Lt. James Blade had recovered.
Just as Slim said he would.
Sitting alone in the shadowy rear of The V.I.B. Lounge, James was currently watching an alien version of his father dance lewdly with clones of his older brother, a scowl set on his handsome youthful face.
It had taken the brave soldier more than a week to recover from his exposure to The Fever. During this time, Slim had allowed Franklin to move the incapacitated young man to one of his club's Private Rooms, to recover in a bed that no one wanted to dwell on or in for all that long.
But in the end, the sickness had indeed passed and the strong lieutenant was back on his feet, eager to resume the search for his long lost sibling.
However there were a still few new things the soldier was going to have to get used to first.
One of which just sauntered into the room, as Rix, the green skinned lizard alien the soldier had fought his first day in Outer Ring City, sidled up to the attractive Umon in the back of The V.I.B. Lounge.
"Hey there, beautiful."
"For the last time Rix, I'm not interested."
"Now those are the words I hear you saying Umon, but what are the words echoing inside your heart?" said the scaly beast as it tapped one of its claws on James' muscular thigh.
A stare as cold as the void did little to dissuade the alien's continued flirtation with the young man.
For the beast had become smitten.
Effected by the pheromone like nannites that James Blade now exuded from his fair skin, the alien had become one of the first of several otherworldly suitors to hound the attractive Umon's steps. And the young soldier was having real difficulty communicating his lack of returned enthusiasm to his new hulking stalkers.
When Rix next shed his chest armor to reveal some sort of winking gooey orifice, the handsome lad finally had enough.
"Never, ever, tell me what that is Rix," said James, getting to his feet and excusing himself to acquire one of the complimentary drinks Slim had offered The Blades during their continued inhabitation of his club.
Downing the alcoholish beverage in own swift gulp, the no longer youngest member of his family briefly wondered how he could have wound up in such bizarre circumstances, as hordes of 18 year old Sams raced by, alien clients heavily in tow.
When a shadow loomed over the soldier once more, James sighed without looking behind him.
"Move it along, Rix. It's not going to happen."
"James, you know I don't like you in here."
"Sir!" said the young man, turning in surprise to face his father!
"I know Sir. It's just that someone has to keep an eye on him. Make sure he behaves," said James, gesturing toward Slim, still cutting a rug on the dancefloor with his Sam servants.
"Slim won't do anything, James," said Franklin. "I know his mind."
Staring at his old man incredulously, the soldier replied, "That's what I'm worried about Sir."
It was not as if the ret. admiral was acting all that different. Just the odd tapping of his foot. Or the occassional humming to the ever blaring beats of the club. Nothing anyone else would even notice as unusual.
But to his son, such behaviors made it as if the stern man was now an alien himself.
"I'm fine, James."
"If you say so, Sir."
"I do."
Seeing the father and son talking at one of his many bars, Slim decided to give the floor a rest, and join the two at the side of the room.
"How are my two favorite new relatives doing this lovely ethernight?"
When neither responded, Slim continued on.
"You know I've been thinking I should start going by Uncle Slim," said the smiling human alien. "What do you think?"
"No way," returned James quickly.
"That's wildly inappropriate Slim," added his father.
The Slime Lord frowned.
"And here I thought you both might be grateful tonight. Do you know how many favors I had to pull to get you your meeting tomorrow?"
The answer indeed had been many.
The Ruling Council of Outer Ring City was not an easy venue to book.
But if anyone was to know what had happened to the original Icarus Mission crew, it would be they whom had authorized the legal mass production of the Sam-line clones for their inhabitants. Someone had to have made contact with the first Umons to The Core, and these elite alien rulers might know exactly whom.
Without Slim's assistance, The Blades would have never stood a chance in gaining an audience in their lofty chamber. But the Slime Lord had taken a shining to the Umons in a way he even cared not to admit, ever since his mind had briefly merged with that of the ret. admirals. And now it was almost as if the huge blob was going soft. Time to fix that belief, if anyone dared think it.
"I know how you can return the favor, James."
"Slim!" barked Franklin.
"I only meant he could get me a drink," said the alien slyly.
"I think you have enough of my sons for that," grimaced the elder Blade.
"Only too true brother," laughed Slim mischieviously, snapping his fingers at one of the blonde twinks nearby.
While the Slime Lord no longer needed his slave boys to manufacture Fever for his clients, his new operation would still take awhile to start, and in the meantime these Sams would have nowhere to live or eat if they left the club. It was not as if Franklin could afford their care.
So the ret. admiral had been forced to let Slim continue his business much as it was, with only the promise of a new way of conducting his affairs sometime off in the future.
"I'm going to get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow James," said Franklin sourly. "I suggest you do the same too, boy."
"Yes, Sir," answered James dutifully as his old man strode away to their quarters above the club.
As he left, the man was soon replaced however by the young 18 year old Sam that had brought them to their new home. In his hand was a colorful beverage... not for Slim, but for James.
"I made you this," said the boy, biting his lip as he addressed the handsome older soldier. "It's a Flaming Volcano."
"Um... thanks..."
The lad winked, then sashayed away into the club, James' eyes unconsciously following the boy's hips as he walked.
Slim was watching the soldier intently, a huge grin on his face.
"You know, I haven't told your father."
"Told my father what?"
Slim did not answer the lad immediately, instead just staring at him with that same wicked smile.
"You might be able to fool yourself James, but your Uncle is quite the other matter..."
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