by Lia Black
The female reporter’s face was replaced with a clip from a news conference and Warden Lyttel’s pasty, white visage.
“From what we have gathered, Fie and Argeneau were in contact prior to Fie’s arrest. Argeneau was always on the short list for long transports because of his exemplary record and his pilot’s license. We believe that Sgt. Argeneau deliberately changed course, and killed Corporal Reeves when confronted. Our thoughts and prayers go out to Reeves family.” Reporters began clambering towards the podium, but Lyttel had turned away, leaving some random PR person to deal with the onslaught of questions. The clip ended and the reporter spoke again. “Both men are to be considered armed and dangerous and should not be approached. If you have any information on their whereabouts please contact your local CSD office or Federation Military outpost.”
Sean stared at the screen, past the vacuous female news anchor, and back into his own eyes.
Thirteen years. Thirteen years, six months, and twenty-seven days he’d been a cop, and he’d worked hard to be a good one. In that time he’d seen several others give in to the temptation of quick drugs or easy money. Many of them got away with it, and Sean was sure he could have as well, but he’d never be able to live with himself. He couldn’t compromise his morals, and it felt like a kick in the teeth to hear someone telling the galaxy he had.
Although he’d thought he’d confronted the thought of not being a cop anymore and believed he’d made peace with it, it had been because of other reasons—death being the most likely. He never thought he’d lose his job—his fucking way of life—by being accused of a crime, of murder. He was glad that Mercury had kept his father’s gun, because right now he wanted to blow a hole in something and that something might just end up being his own goddamned head. If he returned to Earth, he would be arrested, and there was nothing he could say that would change the opinions of those who had all ready decided. The only person who knew what happened on the transport was dead. Even if Mercury had been awake and aware, he wasn’t the most compelling witness. Besides, Sean had no idea how deeply the corruption ran. Even if his CO was still an honest cop, and Sean managed to get a real trial, the circumstantial evidence couldn’t be ignored. Being viewed as an aider and abettor made him guilty of every crime Mercury had committed since they hit Terra Huygen. Even if Rodney had died as a result of his own stupidity, someone was lying to make it murder. That just added another one on top of the five mercenaries he’d been aware of, and however many there were when Mercury strolled into their camp.
Fuck it. There was nothing he could do right now so he got up to have his shower.
The warm spray on his skin felt like heaven, and it began to relax him enough to start to examine things outside the periphery of his anger.
Maybe now, to some extent, the charge of Sean’s aiding and abetting Mercury was accurate. Mercury had saved his life. He’d had the chance to run and disappear, but instead he came back, and had risked his freedom by bringing Sean to a space port full of Federation troops. Although Sean could use legal arguments to justify turning Mercury in after that, he couldn’t find any moral ones.
He could go on hating Mercury for everything he’d done to him when they’d started out, but it was a past that felt like decades ago. As he rinsed the shampoo from his hair, Sean felt a heavy, cold weight settle into his chest. Regret. Maybe he should have given in to Mercury that last night in the shuttle. Sean pressed his fingers to his lips, feeling the bruise-like sensation of the bite he’d received. The heaviness in his chest began to burn as regret became anger. He was no longer valuable, and Mercury had left him behind. He’d told Sean, point-blank, that everyone was expendable; why should he feel like he was different?
Sean closed his eyes, pounding his fist against the wall of the shower, just hard enough to make the glass shudder. Why did this rejection bother him? They weren’t lovers—and it was hard to call Mercury a friend. Yet they had been together for so long, surviving, that it felt like a vital piece of him was missing now. He felt cast adrift in the vacuum of space.
After scrubbing and rinsing a few times, Sean finally felt clean enough to get out of the shower. He wiped the fog off the mirror then switched on the dehumidifier to clear the steam from the bathroom as he examined his reflection in the glass. An angry face stared back, eyes hollowed and haunted. His life was over. It had been over the moment that he’d been asked to escort Mercury to the tribunal.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a reflection in the mirror. Movement, like a shadow crossing outside of the bathroom door. The room was dark now; he hadn’t bothered to turn on a light before showering, expecting he’d go to bed. If it wasn’t just his tired mind hallucinating, then it seemed someone wasn’t about to let him rest. He prayed that it was one of those Sol Labs militia assholes, because right now he could really use something to punch. He pushed the door closed and turned off the bathroom light, blinking to get his eyes used to the darkness. He slid the door silently open. Whoever it was had approached the bathroom; a dark outline, separate from the shadows in the room. Sean rushed forward, catching the intruder around the throat with his good arm and getting behind him. He pulled the body against his own, trying to force the intruder off-balance. As Sean’s shit luck would have it, instead of pulling forward to try and maintain coordination, this one shoved backwards, taking Sean off his feet. Sean landed on the bed. He rolled, releasing his choke-hold on the intruder’s neck, struggling to get on top and hold the man down as his hands found his throat. The skin that covered the slight rise of the man’s larynx was cool, and smooth; too smooth to be human.
“Precious.”
That familiar androgynous purr vibrated against his palm. Sean drew his hand back, feeling like he’d just been dropped out of a dream and back into his own skin. “Merc—?”
Hesitation had been part of his life longer than he could remember. He needed rules, something that told him how to move forward and he’d followed them, almost blindly, for years. It had earned him nothing but loneliness and heartache. He knew the answer. Of course it was Mercury, and he was as happy to see him as he was angry with him for leaving him to worry. With no more deliberation, Sean went with emotion.
He leaned down and caught Mercury’s mouth in a kiss. It was rough and punishing, no technique or concern about what it meant. Sean’s frustration brought teeth clacking together, lips being grazed and bruised. He wanted to scream at Mercury for everything he’d put him through—how fucked up his life was since he’d met him, while at the same time being so grateful that he hadn’t been left behind, forgotten. Mercury grabbed the sides of Sean’s head, his fingers weaving between the strands of his wet hair, and held him there until Sean’s kissing became more disciplined, gentler, as the anger bled out and long-repressed desire flowed in.
Sean was caught in a haze; he felt like he was drunk as he climbed off of Mercury. He couldn’t stop kissing him; it had been years since Sean had felt such intensity driving him.
Mercury’s clothes smelled like shuttle fuel, smoke, and stale blood. Sean didn’t need to ask to know it wasn’t his, and he didn’t care who it belonged to. He moved away from the kiss, overwhelmed by the emotions and sensations converging upon him.
“I…” Sean hesitated, uncertain what he’d been trying to say. “Go take a shower. I need a minute,” he said finally, sitting on the side of the bed.
Mercury got up, soundlessly; still a shadow as he moved through the room. For a moment, Sean felt panic—worried that maybe he’d upset him and Mercury was going to leave. Sean started to stand up, his heartbeat erratic, propelling him forward, but Mercury stopped with his back to him and pulled off his shirt. Sean resettled himself on the bed, watching him undress. Although there was very little light in the room, Mercury’s skin seemed to catch any bit of it and glow. He was so alien, and yet not. Whatever had gone into his DNA had created something human enough to be beautiful, yet exotic enough to be unnervingly so. Sean wondered if it had been by design, or a pr
oduct of chance.
A million things were going through Sean’s mind; things that hid in the darkest corners and burned at the edges of his complacency. He’d had a purpose, a job to complete, and he would have done it, never questioning or looking back. The situation—Mercury, Sol Labs, a growing sense of conspiracy—had been fighting to pull him off of the path the entire way. And he’d gone, grudgingly, but always stayed close, always within sight of the well-worn trail. But the trail branched now into two distinct directions. One led to a deep forest and a door that had stood closed for as long as he could remember. The other—his current destination—terminated at a stone wall. It was too high to climb, too wide to go around. Changing direction was rushing headlong, full-speed through that door, which was only unlocked for a second. Hesitation would keep it safely shut, because once he’d crossed the threshold, he could never go back. It no longer mattered that Mercury was a criminal and Sean was a cop—in fact, he wasn’t anymore. His original purpose for being here was gone. Ethical lines, drawn in chalk, had been scuffed over, blurred and smudged, in some places erased completely.
“Stop thinking, asshole.” Sean hissed, frustrated by his own behavior. Beneath the towel, he was hard as a rock, and he gripped himself through the terrycloth. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The door was open. It was now or never.
32
Seeing his Sean—his precious one—awake, alive, had caused something inside to grow—he felt the shell crack and something big spilling out, filling his chest. He’d been unable to say Sean’s name at first, unable to call out to him because the sensation had filled his throat, silencing him. It wasn’t until Sean grabbed him and instinct took over—self-preservation—that Mercury was able to shake free of whatever had come over him. But then Sean had kissed him, turning his mind into mush.
Mercury touched his lips, still raw and burning from Sean’s teeth and the rasp of his growing beard. It had been…unexpected. He felt knocked off balance, and apparently Sean had as well. Mercury had never experienced anything like this, and he worried that maybe his brain was broken more than he’d imagined.
The warm water felt nice on his skin. Although he understood that Sean was likely using the excuse to settle whatever turmoil was playing in his head, Mercury appreciated a chance to wash the stink of Underbridge off his body. He’d gotten new clothes for them both — traded for a worthless gun that had burned out energy coils. He knew he could have gotten whatever he wanted just by showing his face, but trust was a commodity in very short supply. The only person he trusted now was Sean, even though he still didn’t understand him.
Mercury’s hand stole down to his cock as he continued to touch the scrapes and bite-bruises on his lips. He closed his eyes with a small whimper as a throb of tension tightened his loins. Sean was going to deny him as he usually did, but seeing him conscious was good enough. It was disappointing, though. He’d looked forward to sex with Sean—Sean fucking him because he wanted him, not because of force or threats. No, that would mean that Mercury was nothing to him, and he wanted to be something. He could pretend that Sean cared and would miss him when he was gone.
Distraction was a constant in his head, but it had never left him vulnerable—not since he was a child when he’d use it to hide from all of the terrible things happening to his body on the outside. He hadn’t been aware of Sean behind him until he felt the heat of his skin; hard, hot flesh pressing against him. A gasp caught in Mercury’s throat, coming out as a trembling sigh when Sean’s hand covered the one he’d been using to touch himself.
“I thought you’d left me.” Sean’s voice was a gruff whisper in his ear. The sound manifested through the nerve endings of his groin as Sean used Mercury’s own hand to stroke his cock.
“Not without saying goodbye,” Mercury murmured. His tongue felt thick in his mouth as all sensation became focused below his waist. Sean’s cock was nestled hot and hard between his buttocks. Mercury arched his spine, raising his ass in invitation. He wanted to shove back against Sean, seat him to the hilt and fuck him senseless, but there was experience now, and understanding that Sean didn’t like having things forced upon him. Forest Green Flutterby had hated it when her sisters changed all of her green dresses purple.
Sean’s hand moving his hand over his cock was getting distracting. Mercury was feeling nice, but he wanted Sean inside of him. Although Mercury wanted to tell him that, his mind was going all foggy and blue as pleasure tugged and plucked at his nerves. All he could do was let out moans and sighs. He pushed his other hand to the glass to steady himself, feeling like his knees were ready to give out.
Sean’s hand stopped, holding his in place. “Is this goodbye?”
Mercury shook his head rapidly. “No. Not yet.” He felt like his orgasm was building up behind a clamp, the tingling pressure became a heavy ache. It was nice—and awful—at the same time.
“Good,” Sean said, his lips brushing against Mercury’s ear. “Dry off. Come to the bed.” He left the enclosure as swiftly as he’d appeared.
Mercury stood very still for a moment, listening to the hiss of the shower spray until he gathered the energy to turn it off. He’d never let anyone else be in charge before. Most didn’t want to be—they were afraid of losing his favor somehow so they waited for him to boss them around—to take control. That was how it had always been—how he thought it should be; when someone defied him, they were punished. Sean was the only man who wasn’t afraid to tell him ‘no’. Sean was the only man who’d never lied to him.
The towel was soft but Mercury’s skin was sensitive—all of the nerve endings were sparkling, too close to the surface. Sean was sitting on the bed, his hands resting on his knees. A shaft of light from the bathroom illuminated half of his body, the other half darkening to shadow. The towel he’d used to dry himself was draped loosely over his thighs. He looked like a god king on his throne. Mercury had a throne….or he’d had one. It might have been nice to put one for Sean right next to his.
Sean’s expression was stern, his green eyes shone like emeralds. He was staring hard at Mercury, and it sent a shiver through his bones, making him feel heavy and weak and wanting. No one had ever done this to him before, and all it took from Sean was a steady gaze.
The carpet felt rough as Mercury dropped to his knees, and pressed his hands flat against the fibers.
On the bed, Sean’s jaw worked as though he was keeping himself from speaking. Mercury did not drop his gaze, but appreciated that nothing was said which might alter this moment—the one and only time Mercury had forsaken control.
It seemed to take much longer to crawl to the bed. Once he got there, he continued to move slowly, his eyes locked onto Sean’s as he coaxed the towel off of his lap. Mercury was uncertain if the expression Sean was wearing—something on the verge of anguish—was because he was battling his sense of morality, or if it was something else—something far more favorable to the situation. He would find out soon enough.
Sean’s cock was lovely, still half-hard. He’d remembered that it was bigger than average, but it wasn’t obscene. The hair surrounding it, and dusted lightly across his chest and legs, was the same strawberry blond as his head and it reminded Mercury of gold dust. He wrapped his lips around the velvet-soft skin, feeling its heat—Sean’s heat—and pulse as the shaft became steel. Sean moaned and one hand tangled with the wet hair on the crown of Mercury’s head. Mercury glanced up, and the pained expression had faded. Whatever turmoil had plagued him seemed to have been forgotten. The tension he now saw was that of a man holding back, fighting the instinct to thrust fast and hard as he raised his hips and held Mercury’s head in place. Mercury had instinctively tried to exert control by drugging Sean with pleasure, and Sean had regained the upper hand once more. He let Sean fuck into his mouth, surprised by how careful he was with this thrusts, keeping them shallow and light. At one point he stilled and the salty flavor of precome tingled across Mercury’s tongue. His grip on Mercury’s head tightened, keep
ing him from moving to finish him off.
“On the bed,” Sean grunted, pulling Mercury’s mouth off of him.
Mercury climbed up onto the mattress. “I brought—”
“I found it,” Sean said, holding up the tube of lubricant Mercury had brought. Mercury thought it was wishful thinking at the time, but had packed it anyway, even with the understanding that Sean might still tell him no. He wanted Sean, almost more than he wanted anything, but if Sean refused him, Mercury would have found someone else. The point was to have sex one last time before fulfilling his destiny, though it wouldn’t have been the same. It would have been strawberry when one wanted chocolate—good, but not satisfying. No; it was more than that somehow.
Mercury sensed he should be on his hands and knees for this—Sean’s shoulder was healing but it couldn’t be ready to bear weight. For a moment, Mercury felt dizzy and his stomach clenched. A dark veil settled over his pleasure as he understood that he might very well be just a receptacle for Sean—a body to use. Maybe it was being used to remind him that Sean was in control now—that he could hurt him, break him further. Not physically, but by making him nothing. Making him not matter, just as Mercury would have done if he’d had to fuck a stranger. Just as Mercury had done when he’d first forced Sean to fuck him.
“Touché,” Mercury murmured, his blood turning viscous in his veins. It was fine. If this was what Sean wanted, he’d let him take it. It was Sean who would remember, and Mercury wanted to be remembered fondly after he was gone.
