Bryan could not have told himself how, exactly, but it felt different. Tangible, somehow. In his dreams, at some level he had noticed that, even though everything felt concrete and real, there was a strange haziness to it, as if he could not quite touch it.
Now, he put both hands down flat and felt underneath him a hard mattress, which felt somehow soft but solid, like no bed he had slept in before.
He noticed the other thing. There was no one behind him. Every other time, he had been in bed with someone. With him.
“What? Where...”
“Here.”
The voice was gentle, impossibly soft. It throbbed straight into Bryan's chest, soothing him. He turned. He focused his eyes in the room, facing the white wall opposite.
There, he could make out a shape of a person. He was sitting against the wall, in a tall, narrow chair.
He looked calm and beautiful. Exactly as he always did. He was clearer, though; as if he, too were more tangible. Bryan stared. He was so beautiful. He had the muscular form as ever, with his gently-smiling face and the dark, curly hair. He did have violet eyes. As ever, they smiled at Bryan. Different to the usual, he was dressed in a long white robe. He had never worn anything.
“Hi.” Bryan sat up. He smiled. He couldn't help it. So much weirdness, and yet his heart could not help but respond to this beautiful, gentle person.
“Hi.” The man walked over, and brought himself to the edge of the bed. He sat down on the corner.
“Feeling okay?” He asked. He looked like he really wanted to know.
“Yes.” Bryan smiled. “I feel good, really.” He did. Different, but really very good indeed.
“Good. I'm glad.” The man was looking away now, as if lost in thought.
“Why?” Bryan asked, still smiling.
“Well,” and now the man was looking down, almost as if he were ashamed of something, “most people thought it would make you feel ill, coming here. It was not wise of me, to bring you.”
“Feel ill?” Bryan asked, surprised, and then, when the rest of the sentence arrived, “Here?”
“Yes.” The man nodded. “I mean, yes, you have been here, but no, not really here.” He paused at the look of confusion on Bryan's face.
“Not really here? What do you mean...?” Somehow, it made sense, but not the kind of sense he wanted it to.
The man was silent for so long that Bryan thought he would not answer, and then he spoke again, his voice low and soothing, but also strangely sad. “What I mean is, not in consciousness.”
“You mean...?” Bryan felt sick. He really had believed it was a dream. It had to be. He must be dreaming. It was overwork. It was. It must be...
“You mean,” he continued, after a pause, “You mean this is real?”
“As real as you or I.” The man confirmed.
“But...” Bryan sat up, already trying to get out of bed. The man put out a gentle hand and held him back.
“You shouldn't get so excited. It won't be good for you.”
“Good for me?” Bryan asked, feeling concerned and confused. “There's nothing wrong with me.” He sounded petulant, even to himself.
“No, there isn't anything wrong with you.” The man wriggled in his seat, still looking worried and awkward. “Nothing wrong with you at all. But you still shouldn't get excited. It will damage your pregnancy.”
“What?” Bryan was out of bed now. He looked down. He was wearing something white as well, made of the same peculiar heavy-weight material the man was wearing. He noted absently that it was very warming.
“I can't be pregnant!” He sounded angry and desperate and, despite himself, also deeply shaken.
“Well.” The man was looking at him, still awkward. “Under normal circumstances, you'd be absolutely right, indeed.”
“What do you mean, under normal circumstances?” Bryan could hear he was shouting, and though he did not want to be rude, he could not help how frightened and angry he felt. What was going on? He needed an explanation. Nothing made sense, and he needed to know. He wanted to run away, to be anywhere but here in this strange room with this stranger telling him things.
“Could you get back into bed? Please?” The man entreated.
Somehow, the real anguish in the voice reached to Bryan. He sighed.
He walked over and slid into bed. At once, the bed felt warm. It must be the fabric, Bryan thought, noting again that it must have amazing powers of insulation.
“Okay.” Bryan looked at him. “Explanation? Please.” His voice was small.
“Very well.” The man sighed. He closed his eyes.
“This all began long ago,” he started, his voice with its same soothing, calm quality which Bryan had come to appreciate. “In fact, it began so long ago nobody actually knows when—billions of years ago, with the formation of the Universe – but really, the history we're interested in is a bit more recent.” He smiled. “You are aware, aren't you, that yours is not the only galaxy in the Universe?”
“Yes.” Bryan sounded cautious. He was starting to get a feeling of where this might lead, and he was not sure he wanted to hear what he knew was inevitably close.
“Well, then.” The man smiled. “I think you already know what I am going to tell you, which is, as you already guessed...I am not from your galaxy.”
“Yes.” Bryan sighed. Now that he had said it, it was perfectly logical, really. Why else did his skin have an other-worldly blue cast, and his eyes look a deep royal purple? And where else was this, but a spacecraft? That would explain the whirring, he thought privately, but said nothing. It all made too much sense.
“The planet we come from,” the man continued, and he said a word, which was too unlike anything in Bryan's memory for him to even comprehend it, but he assumed it was a name, “is dying.”
Bryan saw his face, a picture of incomprehensible sadness. Despite his whirling emotions, he wanted to weep for this calm, beautiful being.
“Well,” the man sighed, “let me not exaggerate. Not dying, not yet.” He sighed again. “Because we have developed using our awareness rather than only our eyes,” he smiled again, enigmatically, “we have a communication with our planet, and we know She will not be able to support us forever.” He sighed. “Much like yours, in fact. But, being so irrepressibly visual about everything your people have not noticed that. You probably won't, either. Until it's too late.” He looked unspeakably sad. Bryan felt his heart contract.
“Anyhow,” the man continued, “I am distracted.” He paused. “What I am telling you is this: we are trying to save our kind.” He paused. “Our visionaries have seen that the best way for us to do that is through diversity.” He smiled. “Genetic diversity drives survival of a species, as you know.” He nodded. “So our leaders have suggested that we diversify our genes in as many ways as possible.” When Bryan was silent, he continued.
“So far,” he paused, “the best way of doing that is by hybridization. Crossing.” He elucidated. “Easier than genetic manipulation, more robust than engineering through plasmids.”
Bryan blinked. He felt entirely and completely lost.
“What I am saying,” the man continued, patiently, as ever, “is that our kind is crossing with your kind. By pairing with them.”
Bryan blinked. “You mean?”
“Yes.” The man continued, patiently. “I am saying that you are pregnant. By me. You are carrying our child.”
Bryan reeled. How was that possible? He could not begin to comprehend it.
“I am?” He stammered. “No. I mean,” he continued, seeing the man's face and desperately not wanting to offend this gentle, sensitive form, “How can I be? And, why?” What he wanted to ask was: “Why me?” It sounded silly, so he stopped.
“Why you?” The being smiled. Clearly, reading thoughts was part of what he did. It did not worry Bryan, but rather made sense of the telepathy he remembered from his dreams, and of some statements he had made earlier.
“Why you, is complicat
ed.” The being continued. “I mean, the first is clear. The subject has to be male, because our kind only exists in one form. It's more economical that way.” He explained.
“Economical.” Bryan swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Fine.” Any extra weirdness wouldn't hurt, after all, Bryan told himself wearily. Just one more piece on top of the mountain of strangeness was hardly even a dent in the pile.
“Can I continue?” The man asked. At Bryan's nod, he did so. “Well, the second reason should be obvious, but perhaps not.” He smiled, showing beautiful straight teeth. “The reason you were perfect for this need was, well,” he paused, “You're one of us already.”
11
“What?” Bryan sat up so suddenly he thought he would faint. He leaned back, feeling the blood drain to his knees. He felt weak. Strangely, however, that made sense. It made sense of a lot of things. Too many. He was adopted, he knew that. No one actually knew the circumstances of his birth, and his biological origins were listed as: “unknown”. Bryan had always assumed no one bothered to record him. Now he knew, it was because he did not have any biological origins. Not entirely biological as humans understood the word, anyhow.
It explained everything. How alone he felt, how he felt stabs of knowing, when he was a child, as if he could tune in to the minds of those around him. He could. It also explained why he felt different growing up, even before he had been told he was adopted. If he thought about it, his feeling that he was completely different to those around him had started before he knew that, not after: Why did he believe for all these years that it had been a consequence of that news? He shook his head.
“Okay.” He sighed, looking at the benevolent face looking down at him with care and tenderness. “I accept that.”
“Good.” The man smiled. He sat back, looking relieved and pleased and calm, all at once.
“I'm glad to know.” Bryan agreed. He was.
“Well, I am so glad you are.” The man was smiling, more than Bryan had ever seen him grin before. “Because it means the next part is easier than I thought it would be.”
“Why? What next?” Bryan asked. He was curious rather than afraid. Somehow he knew no bad could come of this individual in his complicated, suddenly-simplified life.
“Well.” He leaned forward, and took Bryan in his arms. Bryan felt a slight tensing of surprise, and then he relaxed to the embrace, allowing his body to feel the range of wonder and delight he always felt in this man's arms. He kissed Bryan again. Their lips met, and Bryan lost himself in the contact.
“Well,” He sighed. “The fact is, I cannot leave you on Earth a moment longer.” He paused. “I have come to care too much for you.”
Bryan felt those words rock through him, and resonate deep inside him, and suddenly he knew, and knew his answer was remarkably simple after all; so he sighed, and said it. “Good. Me too.”
The room was silent. Bryan and the man were in the bed, arms around each other. The man held Bryan close to his chest, and Bryan leaned back, content to be in his arms.
Everything made sense. As he lay back, held in the arms of someone who cared so deeply, and for whom, he realized suddenly, he felt such depth of care himself, he could see it all. They had known each other for much longer than he remembered with his earth-senses, so used to seeing only the face value of things. With his awareness, as the being had said, he knew he had known him for much longer; possibly all his life, or even before. They did not know time as humans did, because they were not limited by the things only their senses could perceive, but were conscious of the consciousness that outlasted matter.
“So,” he smiled, and kissed him over his shoulder, “we will go back with you?”
“Yes.” The man kissed him. “You and I will go with this ship, which is questing for a new planet.”
“We will.” Bryan agreed. It felt completely right.
“We will.” The man agreed.
They lay in silence for a long while, Bryan completely at peace. He felt more at peace than he had ever felt before, in his whole life. He could accept himself as he was; could allow his senses and feelings and awareness as he had never done in all the time before.
“Well?” Bryan kissed him, feeling the slow ache of longing that rushed into him even as he did so, and becoming aware that he could feel the same longing building in the body beside him, “I shall need a name for you.”
“Well.” The man smiled. “You know, with our thoughts, that we need no names to know whose consciousness is touching ours.”
“I know.” He nodded. He did.
“But I understand,” the man smiled, “that you will speak in words as well sometimes.” He nodded. “We do both, as well, though hardly ever find the need to speak.” He paused. “You can call me Cyanos, if you will.”
“I like it.” Bryan smiled.
“Good.” The man smiled back.
They kissed.
Cyanos leaned back, drawing Bryan down to lie supported on his chest. “I have to let our transportation team know they should set a course away from here,” he smiled, kissing Bryan's hair and closing his eyes a moment, reaching out with his mind. Bryan felt him do it.
They kissed again.
Soon, Bryan felt the acceleration as they changed direction, veering off and slowing, slightly, before they gained the course and stuck to it, keeping their velocity.
Bryan was not surprised not to feel much at that; no fear or apprehension. He was here, after all, with the man he loved, and he was safe with him, and understood himself at last.
Leaning back, feeling Cyanos behind him and the gentle warmth around him and sensing, rather than feeling, the powerful thrust as they sailed across the galaxy, he felt a sense of calm and peace that he had not felt, as long as he knew.
He leaned back and they kissed once again, this time with an urgency that told what came next.
He was, he reflected, completely content.
THE END
Dark Star
Chapter 1
The day darkened with the falling night, setting orange and intense, its light shining through the tall glass windows of the elegant apartment on Main Street.
The naked man rolled over, and Hunter, lying beside him, admired the muscled back. Full and rippling and glistening with sweat, the muscled expanse was marked on the shoulder with a tattoo of an arrow.
Hunter reached out and drew a lazy finger down the mark, smiling as the man tensed and then relaxed. He rolled over and they kissed, lips hard and hot.
Hunter pressed his body against him and felt himself slowly becoming aroused.
His arms locked around the man, stroking his chest with a muscled finger even as he pressed his body against him. As he did so, Hunter noticed his own reflection, looking back at him across the room from the glass of the south-facing window.
A long, chiseled nose graced his muscled, firm-jawed face, and a sardonic expression smiled out at him from below curly, pale hair. Hunter gave himself a salacious grin before moving so that his reflection was obscured once again.
Not bad, he thought to himself, wryly, as he stroked a hand down the body lying in his arms. At thirty, Hunter was lean, hard and strikingly handsome. At least, he had never met anyone who told him anything else. And his conquests were so many, he had to conclude they spoke the truth.
His eyes focused on the man in his arms, and Hunter felt his manhood stir. Not bad either, he mused. His fingers traced the man's body, and Hunter grinned as the man groaned.
He was becoming aroused, now, and he pressed his hardening manhood against his bed-fellow, feeling a stab of pleasure in his organ as it rubbed against the man's muscled form.
He clasped the man close to him and pressed against him again, stroking his chest as he did so. The man pressed back, and Hunter closed his eyes in savage delight.
As they moved together, Hunter slowly worked himself inside him. He gasped as their bodies met, the sudden pressure on his manhood, and the sudden wa
rmth, almost too delightful to contemplate.
He drew out and pressed in again savagely, reveling in the building, rising, delicious feeling that was spreading through his body from head to toes. He pushed in again and again, harder and harder, his body sliding and pounding and slipping against the form held firmly against him.
He was panting, his body on fire, nerve-endings screaming as he drove in again and again, mercilessly. His mind was slowly losing its moorings, consumed by desire, floating in a sea of sensation so warm and full that it drowned out the whole world.
He felt his whole body melt as he came, collapsing with sated delight onto the sweat-slick back of the man before him.
He panted, slowly, his breath returning to its normal timing before long. Hunter was incredibly fit. Not just because of the expensive fitness program he took part in either; mainly, he thought, lying there with the sweat cooling on his body and the evening breeze chilling his skin, because he loved this way of life.
The man in his arms rolled over, and they kissed. They lay together for a while, both returning from the outer reaches of passion to which they had both been transported.
The man reached back, and they lay together, hands stroking down each other's sweat-soaked bodies.
“Time to go?” The man asked, slowly.
“Indeed.” Hunter smiled, a sharp-edged grin.
He rolled over and stood, feeling the cool air on his sweating back. He smiled at himself in the mirror as he walked over to his walk-in closet, feeling the fine carpet under his feet as he did so. He selected fresh jeans, a designer shirt and sneakers from his extensive collection, pleased with the way the red-and-navy pinstriped shirt matched the expensive dark-blue denim.
The man stood up, rolling his shoulders back experimentally, and grinned at Hunter as he dressed, casually.
While Hunter was gelling back his hair, fresh from the shower, the man left.
Celestial Seductions: The Complete Series: An MM Gay Paranormal Mpreg Romance Collection Page 5
