WARNING: This story contains violence and m-m sex, so if you're under 18 you probably shouldn't be reading it. Consider yourselves warned.

Disclaimer: All characters used in this work of perversion and filth are the property of Paramount, and are nothing to do with me.

Author: Ceefax. Feedback to C_fax@hotmail.com

Note: This has nothing to do with the DS9 episode 'Ties of Blood and Water'. By the way, thanks to Amy for letting me steal the title.

TIES OF BLOOD AND VORTA.

"Pointy ears and hair you want to stroke... And they can fascinate you."

- Terry Pratchett, Lords and Ladies.

Yelgrun strode back into his quarters. He dropped the report he had just received onto the table and made his way into the bedroom. He paused to gaze at the bundle of blankets occupying the left side of the bed, then addressed it sharply. "Keevan! _Will_ you get _up_?"

The bundle curled itself up tighter, and mumbled unintelligibly. Yelgrun sat down beside his lover, and slid his hand beneath the blankets, searching gently, until his probing fingers found Keevan's soft, sensitive scrotum. He squeezed; until, with a flurry of movement, Keevan's head emerged, gasping. "I'm _up_!" he protested, attempting to remove himself from Yelgrun's grip. Yelgrun's thin, pale lips curled upwards in an absent smile as he met Keevan's resentful gaze.

Keevan couldn't hold the disapproving glare for long, though. Within seconds he felt his own mouth moving to imitate his lover's. Yelgrun laughed and held his hands out towards Keevan, who sighed, rolled his eyes in mock-disgust, and moved forward into his arms. He rested his cheek against the cool leather covering Yelgrun's shoulder, and yawned deeply. "Did the orders come through?" he asked, once he was again capable of speech.

"Since you apparently believe that the best way to run this station is to sleep, I don't think there is much point in telling you."

Keevan leaned back far enough to be able to look into the other Vorta's eyes, leaving his hands resting on the leather-clad shoulders. "If you don't want me to sleep during the day," he pointed out, "perhaps you should consider letting me sleep at night."

"I didn't force you into anything," Yelgrun retorted, smoothing Keevan's sleep-tousled hair into some semblance of order. "In fact, as I recall, you were somewhat... insistent."

"You enjoyed yourself." It was a statement, not a question, but Yelgrun nodded his assent nevertheless. "Then why are you complaining?" Yelgrun left that question unanswered, stood up, and headed back out of the bedroom and into the lounge. He scooped up the report and threw it back the way he'd come.

"You'd better read it through. He's arriving tomorrow."

"It'll be nice to have some company," Keevan called.

"Don't expect riveting conversation," Yelgrun replied. "He's only been out of the tank for two months."

*Another clone?* Keevan thought. That particular issue was the major bone of contention between him and Yelgrun. After all, it was very unlikely that he would ever be chosen for cloning. His genetic design was a one-off and, as he had admitted to himself (and to nobody else in the galaxy) not a perfectly successful one. Yelgrun, on the other hand, was the latest in a long line of tall, slim, sarcastic Vorta and that, in Yelgrun's eyes at least, gave him a natural superiority over his companion. After many years with only Yelgrun for company he was looking forward to having someone that he could look down on. He rolled over onto his side, and pulled the blankets back around him. Yelgrun's report falling, unheeded, to the floor.

There were the Jem'Hadar of course, Keevan conceded. They were, by genetic design, inferior to all Vorta. Not that they really counted. He closed his eyes and snuggled deeper into the warm softness of his and Yelgrun's bed. He drifted slowly and gently back toward sleep, until Yelgrun threw a glassful of ice-cold water into his face.

Keevan leapt to his feet and opened his mouth, ready to protest against this treatment in no uncertain terms, just as soon as he could draw enough air into his lungs to allow him to speak; but was beaten to it. "I told you to get up," Yelgrun said, dispassionately. He stared, blank-faced, at Keevan for a half-second, then turned and left the room.

Keevan sat back down heavily, his heart thumping against his ribs. Yelgrun, apparently hearing the creak of bedsprings, shouted "Keevan..." warningly.

"I'm _up_," Keevan shouted in return, choking back the string of insults that desperately wanted to follow. He glared at the doorway, seething, and waited until his strained nerves had recovered somewhat. He rose from the bed, and began picking up clothes that, last night, had been left strewn around the room.

Maybe it would be easier once Yelgrun had someone else to order around, he mused. Keevan honestly didn't understand his lover at times. For the majority of the time he was kind and considerate, gentle, even loving. But occasionally he seemed to feel the need to demonstrate his superiority. By, for example, throwing cold water over people. And Keevan's patience with these little incidents was growing thin. Despite the fact that he had only leaned of his existence five minutes ago, he was looking forward to meeting the new arrival.

***

Keevan stood in front of the airlock, waiting for the docking procedure to end. A token Jem'Hadar stood beside him, looking stern and inscrutable, as always. Yelgrun had elected not to meet their new member of staff on arrival. Keevan wasn't exactly sure what message his friend was trying to put across, but he knew that he had been in a strange mood lately and Keevan was dealing with it by doing exactly what he was told, by not asking questions - the technique that had been the most successful in mollifying Yelgrun in the past - and by hoping that it would all sort itself out. And also, of course, by greeting this freshly-cloned young Vorta alone. *Apart from the Jem'Hadar*, his mind added. It was strange, he thought, as the airlock began to open, how when you had someone else around to talk to (amongst other things), you tended to completely ignore the Jem'Hadar. A faint smile rose to his lips as he remembered a disastrous attempted love affair with one of the Jem'Hadar under his command, back when he still had his own ship. Back before he met Yelgrun.

His reminiscing was interrupted by the inner airlock door sliding gracefully aside. The young, short, slim Vorta within stepped without, and offered Keevan a wide enthusiastic smile. His eyes, which were surprisingly light even for a Vorta, were wide with innocence and honesty. *Oh dear...* Keevan thought. *Yelgrun'll have some fun with this one*. He gave a thin smile in return, and nodded absently at the flood of words expressing the newcomers pride and honour at being assigned to such a prestigious post under two such influential... *I think _I'll_ have some fun with this one*, he added.

He continued to blank out the other's conversation as he showed him to his quarters, which he had personally overseen the refitting of the day before. He tuned back in briefly, only to find him discussing the political situation on Kabba'duun'thingy'whatsit, or whatever they were calling it these days. Keevan's mind reeled at the pure triviality of it all. *Who cares*? His harassed brain screamed at him from it's bony confines. *It hasn't even been allied yet. Make him shut _up_...* By now they had reached their destination. He had been given the quarters next to what were technically Keevan's, however they were rarely used as he had all but moved in with Yelgrun. Keevan accepted his kind offer to come in for a while, and sat and watched as he went about unpacking, his insistent chatter continuing.

As he watched and barely listened, Keevan found himself contrasting every hint of the newcomer's being with Yelgrun - the way his light, delicate, soothing voice fluttered gently around the room, while Yelgrun's deep, slow drawl tended to sink to the floor and get stuck on your shoes. His light, graceful, economical movements compared to Yelgrun, who strode around the station like a planetary dictator. His soft, light eyes constantly flicking up to gage Keevan's reactions, where Yelgrun simply assumed that his nuggets of wisdom had been given the attention they deserved, without ever paying any attention to his audience.

"What did you say your name was again?" Keevan asked, interrupting him in mid-sentence.

"Weyoun," he replied, giving Keevan a smile that was half-nervous, half-eager.

"Weyoun..." Keevan echoed, liking the sound. "Come here." Weyoun put down the practically-empty bag in his hands, made his way across the room, and sat on the low couch beside Keevan. "I think it suits you," Keevan said, examining the young face looking attentively up at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't quite..."

"Your _name_. Your name suits you. Not that I'm any expert in that area..." Keevan resumed his observations. He was still undecided about exactly how he would proceed with this young, fresh specimen. Foremost on his mind was that Yelgrun would most probably want to be the first to sample the new arrival, and would not be best pleased if he found that Keevan had beaten him to it.

Still, he reasoned, if Yelgrun really wanted Weyoun that badly, it would have been him here now, instead of Keevan. Also, Yelgrun got his own way far too often. Keevan carefully touched Weyoun's cheek, pressing his thumb against the base of a smoothly curving ear. It would do Yelgrun good not to have everything go exactly the way he wanted it for a change. Keevan gently placed his fingertips under Weyoun's chin, holding him still, and used his other hand to continue tracing the curves and contours of his face.

Weyoun's smile was turned down a notch, and a thoughtful look appeared in his eyes. He shuffled a little closer - managing to execute even this move gracefully - and put his arms around Keevan's waist. *Not bad for two months old*, Keevan thought. *I wonder what else he's been programmed with...* He leaned forward, and touched his lips to Weyoun's, slowly pulling back when Weyoun began to lean forward in turn.

"That's not fair..." Weyoun protested, a little breathlessly.

Keevan placed a fingertip on Weyoun's lips. "No talking," he said softly. "All right?"

"Ye..." Keevan clapped his hand over Weyoun's mouth. Weyoun looked apologetic, and nodded. Keevan smiled at him, and kissed his forehead. Then pulled him close and began to nuzzle at his neck and nibble his ears. Weyoun rolled his head back, exposing a long length of pale slender throat, along which Keevan slowly dragged the flat of his soft tongue. Weyoun gasped, and pressed himself against Keevan, his hands moving up to Keevan's collar. He began unfastening the heavy tunic and slipping his fingers inside to gently caress Keevan's smooth, warm skin.

Keevan pulled back again. Ignoring the dismayed look on Weyoun's face, he got to his feet. Then he bent over and scooped Weyoun up into his arms. The little Vorta smiled happily and buried his face in Keevan's neck. He worked his way up to Keevan's ear, kissing and licking his neck and cheek, and, as they reached the bedroom, he firmly fastened his teeth into Keevan's ear, forcing the other Vorta down onto the bed with him.

Keevan laid him down, stretching his own body out over his. Weyoun's wide eyes were glittering in the soft light, and he was gazing at Keevan with absolute adoration. Keevan reached out with one hand, and Weyoun closed his eyes as he saw it approaching. Keevan gently caressed his eyelids, enjoying the feel of the firm orbs beneath the thin skin. Weyoun turned his head aside, trying to persuade Keevan to move on to another area. Keevan touched each eyelid in turn with the tip of his tongue, then complied with his lover's wishes, and began removing Weyoun's clothes. Weyoun lifted his hands to continue working on Keevan's tunic, but Keevan captured them, cupped them within his own, and pressed them against Weyoun's chest. He freed one hand and wagged a finger at Weyoun's face in a 'stay' gesture. Weyoun smiled ruefully, settled back against the pillows, and allowed Keevan to slowly strip him naked, offering no help except for kicking off his boots while Keevan was occupied elsewhere.

When he had finished, Keevan sat back on his heels and admired the young, unmarked body lying in front of him, and found himself once again thinking of Yelgrun. Weyoun sat up and put his arms around Keevan's shoulders, leaning in for another kiss. Keevan returned the hug and pressed his mouth against Weyoun's. Yelgrun's body was tough and sinewy, but Weyoun's was soft and yielding. Weyoun opened his mouth and eased his tongue forward to meet Keevan's. And Weyoun's hair was also softer than Yelgrun's, which was course and a little wiry. Their tongues attempted a reef knot, and Keevan slid his hand down to cradle Weyoun's buttocks. Which were also softer than Yelgrun's...

*I will _not_ think about Yelgrun*, Keevan scolded himself. Instead he lowered Weyoun back down onto the bed, not breaking the kiss. Weyoun wrapped his legs around Keevan's waist and began to rub to hips slowly back and forth. Keevan moaned softly, and rubbed back. They remained that way for several minutes, their respective erections growing harder and more insistent, until Keevan began to slide himself down Weyoun's body, kissing his neck, his shoulders, his chest, his stomach. He paused to lap at Weyoun's navel, loving the feel of the silky smooth skin beneath his lips and tongue. Weyoun was shuffling upwards, trying to bring Keevan's mouth into contact with other, more sensitive parts of his anatomy, but Keevan continued to concentrate on his firm, flat belly, teasing him by occasionally moving lower, only to return to his stomach.

"No..." Weyoun gasped, continuing to shuffle desperately.

Keevan broke off completely and pushed himself up onto his elbows to look into Weyoun's face. "Shhh," he hissed insistently. "You keep your _sweet_ little lips," he paused and kissed the aforementioned items, "shut my darling."

Weyoun moaned with frustration and threw his head back against the pillows. Keevan smiled and, keeping his weight on his hands, moved himself slowly down Weyoun's body again, this time taking care not to actually touch him. Weyoun's eyes opened and he looked up at his lover in puzzlement. Keevan hovered over Weyoun's sizeable erection, drawing out the inevitable. Weyoun lifted his hips from the bed, and Keevan finally took the desperate hints.

He could hear Weyoun cry out with pleasure and relief as he embraced his stiff cock with his mouth. He began to explore it with his tongue, and brought his hand forward to gently tickle his balls. His mind automatically acknowledged the cries and moans coming from above him, and the fact that he had ordered Weyoun to be silent seconds before never even hinted at occurring to him. Instead he concentrated on the task at hand. Through his association with Yelgrun he had become quite adept at this particular skill, and Weyoun was soon fully erect in his mouth.

When he pulled back Weyoun almost screamed "_no_!" Keevan smiled at him - pleased that he had managed to arouse him to that extent.

"Roll over, Weyoun. Lie on your side," he ordered, a little breathlessly. Weyoun hastily complied. Keevan lay down beside him, slipped his arms around his slim waist and moved his hand down to encircle Weyoun's cock, still moist with his saliva. This time he didn't tease him, but continued his gentle massage as he reached for the small jar that he had left by the bed yesterday, although at that time he had assumed that Yelgrun would be the one to use the lubricant contained therein.

He freed and coated his own penis while continuing with his attention to Weyoun's, who was moaning softly in time with Keevan's gentle strokes. Keevan slowly eased himself inside. Weyoun let out a long, almost mournful cry, and arched his back with pleasure, pressing his pelvis back against Keevan's, causing Keevan to cry out in turn.

Keevan drew out just as slowly as he had entered, and Weyoun thrust backwards, hard. Keevan growled, and thrust forward even harder. Weyoun let out a peal of delighted laughter, and threw his head back to rest on Keevan's shoulder. Keevan inhaled the soft, clean scent of his hair, and began to thrust faster. Weyoun followed the movement, and their bodies moved in synch, the room silent except for harsh breathing and the dull, clean sound of flesh meeting flesh.

Weyoun gripped the blankets beneath his hands, squeezing tighter and tighter as his pleasure deepened and spread throughout his body like melting sunlight. He cried out again, barely aware of the sound from his throat - barely aware of anything except the fabulous sensation in his ass and the delicious pressure on his cock. He squeezed his eyes shut, gasped deeply, then screamed, throwing his head back as far as he could. A second or two behind, he felt Keevan come inside him.

Trembling, Keevan withdrew and, exhausted, lay back onto the crumpled sheets. Weyoun rolled over to face him and snuggled up to him, resting his head on Keevan's chest. "Is this the welcome you extend to all your visitors?" he asked, sliding his arms around Keevan's waist.

Keevan smiled and gently ran his hands up and down Weyoun's back, feeling the gentle rises of his spine beneath his fingertips. He lifted his head slightly to whisper into Weyoun's ear, "no. Only the special ones."

"Oh?" Weyoun whispered back. "And what about me? How special am I?"

Keevan wrapped his arms around him, and hugged him tight. "You, Weyoun," he whispered, "you are the _specialest_."

***

More of the Story, Chapter Two