FoM02 Trammel

by Anah Crow

  The petting made Noah wriggle closer and he sighed contentedly against Lindsay’s neck. Even through his heavy jeans, Lindsay could feel the hot press of Noah’s erection against his thigh. He tried to shift away, but Noah tugged him closer, and Lindsay’s body was more than willing to sit up and take notice of Noah’s arousal.

  Lindsay groaned quietly, all thoughts of his new responsibilities gone as he focused on Noah now. He didn’t want to push Noah away—both because he could tell Noah needed the contact and because he wanted to strip off his own clothes and get as close to Noah as humanly possible—but he remembered how awkwardly Noah had reacted the last time he’d been turned on by sleeping close to Lindsay.

  When Noah flinched and sat bolt upright, gasping sharply, Lindsay felt sick with guilt. Noah turned to look at him, an orange flicker in his blue eyes that showed clearly, even in the dark. Before Lindsay could start to say anything, Noah exhaled slowly and lay down again, propping himself up on one elbow.

  “You’re okay.” It was half question, half statement. Noah touched Lindsay’s cheek and fumbled for his hands, checking to make sure.

  “I’m all right.” As all right as he was going to be. “Are you?”

  The last thing Lindsay wanted was to hurt Noah.

  “No,” Noah said bluntly. “Not really.” He shook his head and rubbed his hand over his face. “I kept thinking it was you I set on fire. Don’t ask me why. Maybe the only thing that can still go wrong. I’m sorry everything’s fucked up, Lindsay. When we have Dane and the others back, you can send me home. You can do that.”

  “It would be safer for you,” Lindsay allowed, cupping Noah’s cheek and brushing his thumb over the new growth of Noah’s beard. The idea of giving Noah up made his chest ache, but he would do it if Noah wanted. “Do you want to go back? My life isn’t exactly... It will probably never be easier than this. Not until Moore is gone.”

  “No. Want to, no.” Noah leaned his cheek against Lindsay’s hand and closed his eyes. “But if I hadn’t fucked up, Dane would be with you, probably Cyrus too. I don’t want to be the cause of your pain, Lindsay. I don’t want to end up being the reason you feel the same way I do.”

  “You didn’t fuck up. Lourdes did that.” Lindsay stroked the back of Noah’s head. “And if she hadn’t, if you hadn’t gotten hurt, we would’ve gone back to the house together. The Hounds would have found us there, all of us. Not just Cyrus and Ylli and Zoey. If they were enough to kill Cyrus...”

  Lindsay didn’t need to follow that train of thought further. Cyrus had been immensely powerful.

  Certainly Dane and Noah would have been able to help, but if there had been enough Hounds to take down Cyrus, in all likelihood Cyrus wouldn’t have been the only one dead at the end of the fight.

  “She apologized. For killing you. Said she didn’t know you were mine.” Lindsay wondered if that would somehow keep Noah safe from her, next time. He knew there would be a next time.

  “She’s right.” Noah’s eyes were hot and Lindsay was aware—all over again—of how close he was, and how bare he was. “I am yours. Even more than before. I remember you, after the fire, what you did for me. You were there and there wasn’t any pain anymore. I have this life because of you. You made me live when I had no life of my own.” He turned his head and kissed the palm of Lindsay’s hand, soft and warm.

  “Even before that, you gave me reason to come home.”

  Lindsay’s palm felt as sensitive as an erogenous zone, with Noah’s lips on it. He drew his hand down to press his fingertips to Noah’s lips.

  “I couldn’t let you suffer. I never had anything that was mine before Cyrus gave you to me. I wanted to give you anything you needed.” The fierceness of that drive had never faded. Everything he’d never had until he became Dane’s, he wanted to give to Noah in turn. Dane had taught him how to feel that way.

  Noah kissed his fingers this time, the tip of his tongue brushing over Lindsay’s skin as he kissed each finger, then Lindsay’s thumb, catching it gently in his teeth first. Eyes closed, he pressed his feverishly hot cheek against Lindsay’s palm and shifted enough that Lindsay could feel how hard he was.

  “I won’t be hurt if you don’t want me,” he said softly.

  Lindsay used his hand on Noah’s cheek to draw him in, slowly, to press a very light kiss to those very warm lips, and found one of Noah’s hands with the other. He pressed it against his own erection. Noah was wanted. Very much. This way, and in so many other ways. Noah was his.

  “I need this.” Noah’s voice was raw, as though it hurt to say the words. Lindsay knew this wasn’t easy for him. “You.” He worked Lindsay’s fly open and slid his fingers inside.

  Lindsay groaned and arched into the touch. Scrambling to get dressed and ready to leave three days ago meant that, now, Noah’s hot hand was on bare flesh. Carefully, he nudged Noah onto his back and rolled up over him, kissing him again, slower this time.

  “Tell me what you need,” he said, trailing his hands down Noah’s bare chest and belly, seeking out his cock to wrap his cool fingers around the hot shaft and stroke lightly.

  “You.” Noah captured his hands and sat up. He kissed Lindsay’s palms, his open mouth wet against Lindsay’s skin. “It doesn’t have to... Just this once. Please. I could feel you in me when you held my magic, when you held my pain. It’s lonely without you, Lin. I thought I’d be lonely forever.”

  He let go of Lindsay’s hands to tug Lindsay’s shirt up, and he kissed his throat and up under his chin, more open kisses mixed with licks and nips and soft moans that sent need racing through Lindsay’s body.

  Lindsay pushed Noah back enough that he could strip off his shirt, then leaned in again to catch Noah’s lips in another kiss. Noah kissed him desperately, hands all over Lindsay’s chest and back and tangled in his hair. His breath came faster until he was panting between kisses.

  “Please, fuck me,” Noah begged. “I need to feel you.”

  Oh, God. Lindsay hadn’t. They didn’t. Ever.

  Yet the intimacy of being inside Noah’s mind was familiar now, and soothing; a physical bond couldn’t be anything but good and right, especially in the midst of all the things that had gone horribly wrong.

  “Shh,” Lindsay soothed, stroking his hand over the stubble of Noah’s hair. “It’s all right.”

  He wondered if Dane felt this mix of tenderness and driving need when they had sex, when Lindsay begged him for it. He knew how he felt when he needed Dane. There was nothing in the world like knowing Dane was there for him in every way possible. Dane had made sure that Lindsay would have what he needed, without guilt or shame, when Dane couldn’t be here with him. When they had Dane back, Lindsay would make sure Dane knew he was there in turn. Right now, he and Noah were here for each other.

  He plucked the blue bottle from the table beside the bed and kissed Noah again while he got his fingers slick. This, he’d done before, if only to himself. He knew what to do, and how to make it feel good.

  He kissed Noah’s neck and chest, tasting all the soft new skin that had been tempting him earlier, and Noah opened up for him, leaning back on one hand and drawing his knees up, his breath catching on a moan as Lindsay touched him. He yielded easily to Lindsay’s fingers, reaching down and guiding them in.

  Lindsay couldn’t change how cold he would feel to Noah, not without magic he wasn’t sure he had permission to use, but Noah didn’t seem to mind.

  “Hot,” Lindsay murmured, the clench of Noah’s body around his fingers even warmer than the skin under his lips.

  “You feel good. Always.” Noah’s voice was unsteady. He moved to kiss Lindsay on the mouth, needy and clumsy at once. He found the shaft of Lindsay’s cock and wrapped his hand around it, stroking as he whimpered against Lindsay’s lips.

  Knowing that he was going to fuck Noah made the touch even more intense. Lindsay bucked into the tight circle of Noah’s hand, moaning sharply as he struggled to keep from giving in to the urge to do it now, hard and
fast and inside. Finally, against every instinct he had, Lindsay moved Noah’s hand away, carefully, so he could focus on what he was doing.

  “Lindsay...” Noah leaned back on both hands, clenching the sheets. “Please. Fuck, please, don’t wait.” He let his head fall back, eyes closed, and rocked to get Lindsay’s fingers in as deep as he could.

  “Please, fuck me. I need it, please. Tell me what to do.” His voice trailed off into gasps and moans and barely comprehensible begging.

  Fuck. Lindsay swallowed hard and pulled his fingers out, pouring oil over them again to slick his cock. He didn’t stop to get rid of his jeans, just set the bottle aside and shoved them down enough that he could move.

  Bracing himself over Noah, he slowly pushed inside. Noah was hot and tight, and it wasn’t like anything Lindsay had ever felt. He had to stop moving and take a slow, deep breath so this wouldn’t end far, far too quickly.

  Noah’s moan was pure relief. He slumped down on the bed and drew his knees up farther, letting Lindsay have him. Opening his eyes, he reached out and cupped Lindsay’s cheek, a tender counterpoint to how desperate he’d been moments before. They fit together better than Lindsay could have imagined, and when he met Noah’s gaze, he felt like it was locked on something that was rooted deep in his chest.

  Lindsay turned his head to kiss Noah’s palm before he began to move. He kept it slow at first, testing the waters and letting both their bodies adjust to the sensations, then he thrust deeper. From the beginning, he’d been thrown into this without warning, hardly ready to handle the task at hand.

  But Noah knew what he wanted from Lindsay, moving with him, arching, drawing Lindsay in deeper with both hands on the curve of Lindsay’s ass. Like the first time, he let Lindsay in so easily and offered up everything to help Lindsay get it right. He never left Lindsay with any question as to how good it was for him, either, gasping and moaning and whispering Lindsay’s name and begging for more.

  When Lindsay fucked him just right, it rippled through him and he clenched tight around Lindsay’s cock. It was incredibly intense and, each time, Lindsay struggled not to let the sensation overwhelm him.

  He managed to balance on one arm and wrapped his other hand around Noah’s cock, stroking in time with his thrusts.

  Touching Noah like that turned up the volume and the intensity. Noah grabbed handfuls of the sheets, arching under Lindsay and crying out his name. He begged for more, harder, please, and then he was coming, every muscle taut with it as come splashed up his chest.

  The clench of Noah’s body around him shattered the last of Lindsay’s control. His hips jerked and he drove into Noah faster, harder, coming and coming apart with every thrust. Collapsing over Noah, barely catching himself on his elbows, he gasped for breath and grasped at the shreds of coherent thought his orgasm had left behind.

  He’d never expected that. Any of it.

  Lindsay rubbed his cheek against Noah’s, then mouthed at the corner of his lips, coaxing him into a kiss. Noah wrapped an arm around him and slid a hand up into his hair while they kissed. The soft noises he made sounded both inadvertent and completely blissful. Lindsay savored each one.

  He rocked against Noah once, twice more, every movement sending sparks of heat racing through him before he pulled away to stretch out against Noah’s side.

  Noah rolled over to face him, pressing close and petting down Lindsay’s back as they kissed. He paused, but it was only to pull the covers up over them, tucking Lindsay in with him.

  “That was so good,” he murmured, as though there might be any doubt left in Lindsay’s mind about that fact. He sighed shakily and kissed Lindsay once more, a soft kiss on the lips. “Thank you.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s not something you need to thank me for. But you’re welcome. Very.” Lindsay kissed him back. The stubble of Noah’s hair tickled over his palm when he let his hand slip down to the back of Noah’s neck. He rubbed there, working away the tension he could feel building up. “You should rest.”

  “You too.” Noah’s eyes were already closed and his tension ebbed as Lindsay chased it away. “If you ever want...” He paused, stroking Lindsay’s hip while he searched for words. “If you ever want this again.

  Whenever you decide. It would be good.” His eyes fluttered open. “Understand?”

  Lindsay was sure he was missing some of the nuances of what Noah was trying to say, as usual; there would be some kind of formal boundaries on what one did with one’s apprentices but of course no one had stopped to explain them to him. He did understand that Noah would be open to having sex with him again—that Noah wanted him—and he knew what it meant for Noah to let him in as a lover. He’d seen the wreckage of the back porch after Noah had blown Kristan through the door and set fire to the house rather than yield to temptation.

  “I understand.” Even in the midst of all his loss and the destruction of the life he’d come to trust, Lindsay felt like something had gone right, something vital in spite of how small it seemed next to Moore’s machinations. Gently, Lindsay squeezed the back of Noah’s neck the way Dane sometimes did to him and added, “Now rest. Before I put you to sleep myself.”

  They were a mess of oil and drying come, and Lindsay’s scattered and rumpled clothes, but Lindsay didn’t want to deal with any of it. He wanted to know that Noah was healthy and safe, and he wanted to rest.

  Noah didn’t protest. He snuggled down in the blankets and was asleep in seconds. Lindsay watched him sleep and wondered how often Dane did the same when he was the one who slept.

  Dane.

  Being with Noah didn’t feel like a betrayal, but it filled Lindsay with a longing for his first lover, and he thought about what Dane had said before they went to find Zoey. Dane loved him. Lindsay hadn’t had a chance to unravel the mystery of what that meant; he hadn’t had a chance to stop and think about how he felt about Dane. Not until now.

  He found Noah’s scarred left hand and brought it up to his lips. Noah’s love for his wife had given Lindsay his first glimpse what real love looked like for other people, had given him something against

  which to measure his feelings for Dane. I don’t want to be the reason you feel the way I do. Noah knew, saw it before Lindsay knew what to call it, and that made everything vivid and real.

  They would find Dane, get him back from Moore, and Lindsay would tell him what he deserved to hear. Lindsay didn’t let himself feel anything but certain he’d succeed. He had to. He wasn’t going to lose Dane again. Not now. Not when he finally understood.

  Eventually, soothed by Noah’s slow, unlabored breathing and the memory of Dane’s declaration, Lindsay drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  They were offloaded in the dark, under a cloudy sky that made it impossible for Dane to see the stars.

  He was, as far as he could tell, nowhere. His instincts were crippled, and he had nothing to go on but a runway and a cluster of gray buildings that could have been anywhere on earth. The wind blew and Dane turned his face into it, but he heard nothing. Maybe he couldn’t hear without his magic.

  He and Jonas—in their cages—were loaded onto flatbed carts and accompanied into one of the buildings by a dozen soldiers and two white-coated technicians. When Dane squinted, he could see the nametag of the one who came close to inspect him. The man’s round face twisted with distaste. Dane knew he looked bad, but there was no need to be rude about it.

  “Sorry I haven’t shaved,” he said, and was rewarded by the guy nearly pissing himself in terror and falling over his own feet to get back from the cage. “I asked, but these new airlines don’t even serve meals, much less provide razors.”

  “Shut up.” One of the soldiers hit the cage with a baton and made the bars ring. Dane wanted nothing more than to reach through the bars and rip the man’s throat out, just to watch the others’ faces. He knew better, though. He was suffering enough already. If he made things worse for himself... Well, they could let him out of the cage right now and he
still wouldn’t make it out of there alive.

  Dane settled for flashing the technician a grin and hunkering down in the middle of the cage. Too close to the bars and it would be easy for someone to entertain themselves by prodding him with a charged baton. Behind him, he could hear them discussing Jonas. He felt half-deaf without his magical senses, but he could make out the conversation.

  Damn right Jonas was “non-functional”. As things stood, Dane was going to have to leave him behind in order to escape and that was troubling him.

  Another reason to hate Moore—worrying about the animal he’d spent the last century looking forward to killing. But he wasn’t letting Moore have a single piece of mageflesh, and that included Jonas.

  The guards and technicians installed them in a lab, literally installed them by sliding their cages into place against a wall, side by side and some feet off the ground. It was dim, only a few small lights on where the technicians were working, but Dane could feel that the room was vast, the way sound faded into it and was gone. He was sure there were living things in the room other than the staff. When he tuned out the snuffle and whine of Jonas’s breathing, there were faint organic sounds.

  “We need to put them out.” The words were spoken low, but Dane’s head whipped around so fast he wanted to whimper in protest. “Blow darts or...”

  “I’ll get the stick.” That was a female technician, one who seemed to be in charge. She looked like a cheerleader, but Dane could make out the ugly curl of her smile when she turned toward him. Moore was crazy for ugly, inside or out.

  Dane did his best to make it inconvenient for them to tranquilize him, but the back of his cage punched forward and crushed him into immobility against the bars. His body was screaming with pain and yet he still felt the single point of hurt as a thick needle sank into his thigh. Fire spread through his leg and left numbness behind. By the time it climbed up his torso, his consciousness was fading into black.