Grown Men

waste of protein.
    When Runt swam back from the eelbeds that afternoon, Ox sat waiting for him on the beach, stripped to the waist, studying the caterpillar trays in his lap. Of all things, Ox wanted to take over the bee-moths?
    Runt jogged closer, expecting a mess. “What did you do?”
    Everything, apparently.
    Ox jerked his chin toward the slope leading up to their fields and the sheds.
    They walked upslope where a new hive waited.
    Ox had welded the plastic-alloy panels from his container onto the shattered hive. The new enclosure was three times larger and already stocked with chopped bamboo leaves from the orchard. Plus, he’d rewired the nectar feed and divided the nest into small hutches around the digital queen for easier caterpillar count. How had he done that with those clumsy paws?
    There is Luck’s fuckery for you: nothing is fair.
    Runt goggled at work he knew he couldn’t have done as beautifully. A soft twep-tep made him turn toward the outside again.
    The silhouette filled the entire doorway. Ox stood tapping the trays with a thick digit and raised hopeful eyebrows.
    Oh.
    Cocoons. Runt realized the caterpillars’s morning had been busy as well; they’d spun ivory sacks around themselves. Warmth had speeded their cycle.
    Runt just nodded back, almost irritated that the bigger man hadn’t botched it or killed something or set his carcass on fire just so Runt could boss him around.
    Just an experiment .
    Runt stood at the hive entrance watching Ox’s bare back. His torso shone with sweat; it soaked the knotted sleeves at his waist that held his worksuit up.
    With deft fingers, Ox slid each cocoon into the new enclosure. In two days they’d hatch and get to work tending the fields.
    “This is a good bit of work y’done.” Runt gave Ox a thumbs-up and a thump on the shoulder by way of grudging appreciation. His hand barely reached.
    Ox winced, and they both looked down. A few raw streaks on the large man’s skin showed where the hammergun had scorched him.
    “Oi. See? Those burns’ll scar if you don’t watch. We’ll have to amputate something.”
    Ox chuckled and shook his head, examining a livid stripe on his forearm with disinterest.
    “Hang on a tick.” Runt jogged back to the habitat and returned with a tube of ointment. “Gotta be mindful about these.” Squeezing a blob onto his finger, he smeared at a rosy scorch on the oversized ribs.
    Ox shivered at the touch and nodded once, watching Runt’s blunt fingers as they traced the burns with antibacterial goo. The slicked skin felt very hot, either from the sun or his freakish metabolism.
    Runt pursed his lips as he worked, chewing on his mustache. “We got limited medical out here.” Kneeling, he squeezed the tube and daubed at a nasty burn on one meaty shoulder blade.
    Ox winced and hissedand twisted around to face the racks. His nipple tightened on the furry pec in front of Runt’s face.
    “Yeah. Tough shit.” Runt wiped the extra ointment on the front of his worksuit. “Now on, just be careful with the tools. Something serious and I have to put you in stasis and ship your fat ass back to HardCell for employee surgery.”
    His large partner nodded once.
    As he watched the biotic goo seal the welts on Ox’s tan skin, Runt’s pelvis tightened and invisible feathery strokes ghosted over his nerve endings . . . a tickling madness that made his arm hair bristle.
    Pheromones.
    In closed spaces, Ox‘s starchy scent destroyed his concentration, and he couldn’t exactly ask his cofarmer to go rinse off his sexiness so Runt could trot outdoors to blow his jam again.
    Or can I?
    Ox twisted to inspect the burns and nodded thanks, but didn’t step back.
    Runt did, feeling his double-crossing cock plump in his drawers.
      “See here.” Runt cracked his knuckles and addressed Ox like a professor at the employee crèche. “I know they did a hormone splice on you. You’re gonna be getting an eyeful of my peg if you don’t rinse off regular. Yeah?” Runt squeezed his erection through his suit.
    He has to know .
    Ox nodded, grimacing.
    “No. We can’t neither of us help it, and there’s work to do. So you needta be having a proper wank now and then in the sea. That should help lower your levels.”
    Ox backed up further.
    “Nah. We’re both grown-ups. We’ll live. You go have a rinse. And then let’s have some grub.”
    Ox bobbed his head and jogged down to the water.
    Runt squatted inside the new hive, checking Ox’s