18% Gray

by Anne Tenino

  “So, leaving your family wouldn’t be an issue?”

  “No. My mom’s gone, and the rest can all go fuck themselves. ’Cept one but he’s old enough for me to leave him, now.” James got the sense Logan would be sad to leave whoever he was talking about.

  “You know we can’t take you with us, now, right?” Matt’s voice was soft.

  “Yeah. Have stuff I’d need to settle first, anyway.”

  “So, you wanna text—”

  “Prolly should think a bit on it.” Terrified, now that he had the ball rolling. James didn’t know how to reassure him.

  So he changed the subject. He asked for details about the hunt for them. The billet at the convent was really just a coincidence. No one thought they were there. Kandy Melore, after forcing her way into the militia’s search, had been sent here with a regular militia unit to keep her out of the way.

  All the major and minor routes to the Snake and into Canada were watched, electronic and human surveillance. Without actually mentioning Brownlee Dam, James managed to gather it was high on the list of suspected crossings.

  Finally, James had all the info Johnson could give him. He was sort of at a loss about how to bring him back to the Enforced Emigrant issue. James could tell Johnson was as scared of trusting them with his escape as he was about being stuck in Idaho for the rest of his life.

  “Hey, James. We have time for a three-way with this guy? He’s kinda hot.”

  James gave Matt a long, stony look. Okay, aside from the fact that Matt wasn’t ever fucking anyone else, why was he messing with Johnson? James reached out and cuffed Matt lightly in the back of the head. Matt saw it coming, but didn’t duck it. He grinned unrepentantly at James.

  “Leave him alone,” James growled. “He’s a vir—inexperienced.” And he’s not touching you.

  “How do you know that?”

  This time James gave Matt a “what am I gonna do with you?” snort and a sardonic look. He didn’t expect it to work. Matt was enjoying himself.

  James couldn’t see what color Johnson had turned, but he was darker than he had been. Blushing, then. James did a quick check, sensing something unexpected from Johnson. Unexpected enough that he didn’t immediately recognize it.

  Excitement. James forcibly kept himself from looking at the guy’s package. He looked at Matt, instead.

  Matt was looking at the guy’s package. Of course.

  Matt turned to James and leered, waggling his eyebrows. He knew Matt was just kidding around, but Johnson didn’t know that. And along with the excitement, James could feel quite a bit of fear.

  “Shut up, Matt,” James said again. But this time he quirked a lip at Matt. Matt’s eyes got bright.

  He may have just been joking, not really interested in Johnson, but James needed to reassure himself a little. He reached out again, this time grabbing Matt by the back of his neck and pulling him in.

  “Be a good boy,” he growled, his lips a breath away from Matt’s. He watched Matt’s pupils widen.

  It was a relatively short kiss, but it was thorough. And explicit. He forced Matt’s lips open with his tongue and swept his mouth. He might even have growled a little. It was the adrenaline and the situation. And the audience.

  Matt gave a little whimper. James could feel him leaning in more, moving in closer.

  Suddenly, James could see them as Johnson saw them. He had Matt by the neck, was in possession of his mouth. Sitting there while forcing Matt to come to him on his knees. Matt was leaning so far forward he had to plant his hands for balance. Stretched out, head tilted slightly up, begging for it.

  Stopping now might be a good idea. He started to pull away. Matt whimpered again. James gentled the kiss, soothing him. He could feel he’d shot Matt right into that bliss state he was capable of reaching, when he wanted James in full control. And for Matt, having an audience was making it hotter and sharper.

  James gently extricated them from the kiss, leaning forward so Matt could rest back on his haunches, catch his balance, James letting up on his neck. Their lips parted, James gave Matt’s lower lip one little nip, then a gentle kiss. “Hey, babe,” he whispered.

  He could see the moment Matt realized he’d totally exposed his desires to another person. He dropped his gaze, looking away from James and Johnson.

  Fuckity fuck-fuck-fuck. James let Matt go completely, trying to figure out how to mitigate the damage.

  “That was fucking hot,” Johnson croaked, startling them both. They whipped their heads around to look at him. His skin was flushed even darker, due to arousal, now.

  “’M gonna jack off to that every night.” His voice was shaky, barely a whisper. James wondered if he even realized he’d said that aloud. He was pressing the heel of one hand into his groin, hard.

  Apparently, the display did more to reassure Johnson than anything they might have said. He whipped out his hookup—not military issue, looked like a personal one—and asked for the number to text his plea to.

  Matt answered him quietly. Then he gave a little grin and cleared his throat. “I guess we’ll leave you alone with your hand, then.”

  JAMES felt like he should apologize. They were out of immediate danger, jogging south before they swung around north and west. They’d crawled for four hundred meters before James couldn’t sense any human surveillance.

  He couldn’t monitor Matt’s mood, navigate (even with Matt on point), and keep his mind open for threats at the same time. Occasionally he let himself “peek” though, and he got the same thing every time: Matt had shut himself off completely, again.

  James slowed to a walk. Matt immediately slowed too. He glanced back at James.

  Instead of looking upset, Matt looked thoughtful. James felt something hard that had balled up under his breastbone relax and unravel.

  Thank fucking God.

  Matt stopped, and even though they probably shouldn’t yet, James stopped too. Matt reached for him, holding his hand out toward James. He was unable to not step forward.

  Matt took his hand when James was close enough. “’S’alright, James. I’m still thinking, but what happened back there wasn’t… bad.”

  This was so not the place for this, but James couldn’t stop himself from reaching for Matt, caressing his jaw, running his hand into his hair, and gripping gently. “Matt, you are in control, here. I need you. You own me, no matter how it shakes out in bed. I just wanna give you what you need, no matter what it is.” He gave a slow grin. “It’s just coincidental that your kink fits mine so perfectly.” He sobered up again. “But if it was the other way around, I’d give you that too.”

  James gulped back the rest of the words clamoring to get out, backing them up in his throat. For the first time in his life, he was in the position of having said too much. He’d never felt like a bigger fool. Or more vulnerable. Or more hopeful.

  Matt pulled him into his body, hard. Slipping his other hand around James’s waist, pressing on the small of his back, bringing them tight against each other.

  James felt his sudden erection lining up next to Matt’s. He felt like a live current was being passed back and forth between them. He slipped his hand down, around to Matt’s ass, kneading. Matt sucked in a breath and let go of James’s hand, bringing both of his to James’s ass, pressing him into his groin.

  James backed Matt up against a handy tree, grinding against him and squeezing him, sliding his fingers between Matt’s cheeks.

  Matt went for his mouth, arching his back a little, letting go of James’s body. Before James could figure it out, Matt was unsealing his fly, tucking his shorts under his sac, and then doing the same for himself.

  James gasped as Matt took both of them into his hand. His long fingers could wrap almost around them, and his fingertips felt and stroked around James’s glans, dipping into the slit, circling the ridge. James reached in and met Matt’s hand, fisting them together, and jerking up hard.

  Matt whimpered. God that sound made him crazy. James massaged M
att’s ass with his free hand, sliding his fingers down and pressing into Matt’s crack.

  He was surging into Matt’s hand, tongue-fucking his mouth. Matt had a death grip on James’s ass. James slid his hand up to Matt’s waist, and then forced his pants and shorts down, exposing bare skin, finding and pressing into his crack, finding his puckered hole and pushing gently, then more firmly until he popped through. Matt stifled a cry in James’s mouth, and then pulled his lips off James’s, head thrown back against the tree.

  James was so fucking close, his hips kept falling out of rhythm. He needed more skin. He began nipping and sucking under Matt’s jaw, and the salty taste of his skin—even with mud on it—made James moan.

  “Oooooooh, fuck, James.” James could hear Matt’s hair tangling with the bark of the tree every time he thrust against him. James was pushing him onto his toes, almost there. He bit down on Matt’s neck, where the tendon ran. Matt cut off his wail, trying to be quiet.

  Matt gripped James harder as he thrust into his grip, grunting. Matt’s thumb flicked up over James’s head, gliding against the bundle of nerves at the base then catching the pre-come welling out of the slit. James dropped his head into Matt’s shoulder, mouth open against his neck, panting.

  “Christ, Matt, gonna….”

  “Please,” Matt panted, squeezing James harder. He swiveled his hips a little, dragging his cock across James’s, and he lost it.

  “Fuck!” It came out through gritted teeth, but it was damn close to a yell. He came all over their stomachs and rucked-up shirts, his come flowing over their hands as he stroked through his orgasm.

  When he couldn’t stand anymore, he sank down to his knees, resting his forehead on Matt’s bare hip. Matt was making those whimpering noises and thrusting into their still-joined fists. James kissed the skin he could find, panting.

  “Gimme minute,” he gasped out. Matt was beyond hearing him.

  It occurred to James that anyone within fifty meters could hear Matt, though.

  He found the energy to pull himself back and grip Matt’s hips, stilling them. Matt whined, eyes screwed shut, fighting to move his hips. James engulfed the head of Matt’s cock with his mouth and he yelped.

  James pulled off. “Matt!” he hissed. Belatedly, Matt opened his eyes and looked down at James. “You have to be quiet, baby.”

  Matt stared at him a minute, then nodded.

  James wasn’t convinced he got the message. “Stuff your fist in your mouth.” More blinking, then Matt did it.

  He’d just told Matt to stuff his hand in his mouth to keep him quiet. But looking up at Matt biting down on his knuckles because James ordered him to? Was hot.

  Still looking up at Matt, James took him back into his mouth. Matt whimpered around his hand. James moaned, causing another whimper, and took Matt in to the back of his soft palate. Then he started a fast rhythm. Suck on the up stroke, swirl his tongue around Matt’s head, glide down. Matt started to close his eyes.

  James stopped. He gave a gentle head shake. Matt nodded, staring down at him.

  James finished him quickly, watching Matt stare back at him because James told him to. Biting his fist because James ordered it.

  He could feel Matt’s thighs tense, and took him into his throat, swallowing around him. Matt gave a muffled cry and started pumping seed into James’s throat, moaning and shaking. Sweat broke out on his forehead.

  James sucked Matt until he was limp, holding him against the tree. Then he put him back into his pants and shorts, sealing the fly.

  Matt’s eyes were closed now, his hand lax next to James’s head, the impression of his teeth clear on his knuckles. James kissed his hand.

  He smiled as he straightened, holding Matt up still. “C’mon babe. I know you’re all sucked out, but we gotta move,” he whispered in Matt’s ear.

  Matt nodded. And melted back into the tree.

  James sighed, picked up the DEW rifle, and crouched down, slinging Matt over his shoulder and straightening by pushing against the tree. “This should be fun.”

  It wasn’t like his legs were much more reliable than Matt’s right now. He grinned, slapped Matt’s ass once—earning only a “Huh?” and a twitch—and headed west.

  He made it about two steps before Matt slapped his ass in return. “What are you doing? We’re supposed to be fleeing for our lives and you’re fucking carrying me? Put me down!”

  James laughed softly at Matt’s disgruntled expression when he set him on his feet. Yeah, they were on the run, but somehow, as long as Matt wasn’t in immediate danger, it seemed almost fun.

  Chapter 20

  THEY looped to the southwest around Cambridge proper, and then met up with the defunct Idaho Power high-transmission towers, most of which were still standing. They led directly northwest to the dam, and there were old access roads to the towers for easier trailblazing. Matt knew it would be rough going nearer Hells Canyon, but Johnson hadn’t mentioned surveillance on that route.

  They met Beni and Miz at the junction of 71 and the transmission lines. And they spent the next two kilometers listening to Beni complain about (1) having to wait more than an hour for them to arrive while hiding in a ditch (which Miz somehow kept her in, despite Beni’s protests; Matt suspected big teeth were involved); (2) her aching bottom, which did not take kindly to “bumping along” on Miz’s back; and (3) needing to find a decent “little girls’ tree.” She mentioned frequently that one—or both—of them rubbing her aching bottom would greatly relieve her discomfort.

  Finally, Matt faked a surveillance alarm, one that required them to keep moving but stay as silent as possible. “What was that alarm?” James asked quietly when they had stopped at the next little girls’ tree.

  “It’s the alarm that tells me the people I’m extracting talk too much.”

  “Oh.” James smiled.

  They were well into what the GPS told them was Advent Gulch when Matt decided he’d had it. He wanted to go home, to the family’s ranch. To the old bunkhouse out the back door he’d converted into his own space. His shoulder hurt, he was still exhausted from the nano-menders, and probably he was drained from the orgasm James had sucked out of him against that tree near Cambridge. He just wanted a big, soft bed and James wrapped around him in it. Preferably in a postcoital haze.

  This whole trip, in spite of having to divert far off the original, and the secondary, and even the tertiary plan, in spite of being wounded, had been somehow easy. James was easy to be with. He liked being with James. He loved being with James. He needed to suck it up and admit he was in love with James.

  They were behind enemy lines, being pursued by AI and humans, dragging along Sister Maligna, and he was recovering from the worst wound he’d suffered since leaving the military. And he was happy. Fuck the questions about submission and control. He’d accepted he was a dedicated bottom—he could accept this.

  Accept it? Shit, he fucking loved it. When James had had him on his knees, begging for it in front of Logan, he was so turned on he was out of his mind. James did something to him that sent him into orbit, and he wasn’t letting go of that.

  Matt stopped that train of thought before things got out of hand and made himself focus on the current priority. Getting them the fuck out of here. They were on the home stretch, now.

  They stopped to camp somewhere on a ridge above the gulch. They were in a drainage ditch somewhere near the top, plenty of brush to hide them from the air, but James made a point of camping close to rocky ground.

  After they ate, Beni dropped off to sleep immediately. Matt had relented and told her she didn’t have to keep quiet anymore, but by then she’d been exhausted. Apparently the life of a nun wasn’t too physically arduous. Miz snorted horse snot out on her and wandered off to crop some of the grass and maybe some nice brush.

  James took first watch. “Sleep a while, babe. You’re better, but not a hundred percent.”

  “Just promise you’ll wake me up, James. You need to sleep too.” James
promised, but Matt didn’t entirely believe him. He was too exhausted to argue, but he set his internal alarm to wake him up in five hours.

  Almost five hours later it wasn’t James who woke him up, but his leg. It was starting the percussive thumping that signaled SAIA.

  “James!” He quickly turned his head toward Matt, alerted by Matt’s tone. “SAIA.”

  James looked back down the drainage while he picked up the digi-camo he had out and ready. “I’m probably looking right at the fucker. Jesus, they’re good at camouflaging those things.”

  Beni was close by, but she needed to be in the rocky area with them under the digi. Matt didn’t even bother trying to wake her up. He just dragged her over, bedroll and all. It was going to be a tight fit, even worse with Miz. Beni would probably be less of a liability asleep. He shot a glance at James, and figured by the slightly faraway look in his eyes he was calling to the mare.

  Miz must have been sleeping, too, and when she came thundering up she was drooling green, grassy spit and farting. Matt rolled his eyes.

  During the two minutes it took them to get organized, the thrumming in his leg was getting stronger. He could swear the bird was practically on them. And personally? He wasn’t interested in another run-in with one.

  He didn’t even bother speaking with James, just opened his mind. James ordered Miz down (well, she lay down, at any rate) and he lay right up against her back, their packs arranged perpendicular to their heads. Matt yanked Beni close and lay down right next to James while he arranged the digi-camo over them.

  He couldn’t be positive, but Matt could swear the bird was on top of them seconds after they got under the digi-camo. The bird was close enough to them that they could hear its blade slicing the air now. His leg was thrumming so much he expected it to start ringing like a tuning fork.

  It was there forever. It must have sensed something. Just when he could feel James tensing, like he was about to take some action, the bird finally started to move away.