Reuben stopped dead. “Kind? I’m not—”
“I think you might be,” Vairya said and reached out to tug at his arm. “Kind enough not to make me walk around in this for much longer.”
“Why are you wearing that?” Reuben grumbled, not pulling his arm free.
“We were rehearsing,” Vairya said, and all his sadness was back. “Once a year, we put on a play in the city gardens, and we were midrehearsal when the ship arrived.”
“You act?”
“Why not? I have no trouble remembering the lines.”
“I suppose not,” Reuben said. “Are you any good?”
Vairya laughed, and it wasn’t as light as his laugh in the garden, but there was a different warmth in it. “Modesty forbids.”
Reuben snorted at that, and opened a hatch. “Down here.”
It felt strange having someone else in his space, and he had to remind himself that he had trespassed inside Vairya’s mind first. He had no right to feel self-conscious about his plain sheets and undecorated walls. He had never felt the need to fill his space with meaningless clutter. All he needed was something to read on and access to the ship’s library.
It wasn’t until the hatch closed behind them that it occurred to him that he could just have taken Vairya to one of the sickbays and found him some scrubs.
“How long do you think it will take them to record their messages?” Vairya asked, stopping in the tiny square of open floor between the ladder and the end of the bed.
“Depends on the message,” Reuben said, scrambling onto the bed so he could reach the overhead lockers. “Why?”
“I was wondering how long we have got,” Vairya said, and there was an odd note in his voice, something which would never have belonged in the rose garden.
“Depends when Chanthavy cuts Eskil off,” Reuben said, pulling out a change of clothes and turning round. “At least an hour.”
“Not long enough,” Vairya murmured, looking up at him. He held out his hand. “Reuben.”
No mock title this time, and something about the honesty of his name in that soft voice made Reuben shudder, suddenly aware that he was alone with this man, who was attractive and infuriating and appealing in a way no one had been since he was a teenager trying to prove himself to his adult classmates. Uncertain, he dropped the clothes onto the edge of the bed and leaned forwards, taking Vairya’s offered hand. “Yes.”
“Tomorrow we die.”
“Tomorrow we fight.”
“No,” Vairya said, and his hand twitched a little in Reuben’s. “There’s no coming back from this. We’re just choosing how to die. Tomorrow, it ends. Everything ends.”
His eyes were wide, and Reuben could hear the effort he was making to keep his voice steady. Two hundred years old, and he’d probably never had to consider his own mortality before. Strange, that this was another thing Reuben understood better. Carefully, he stepped off the bed and put his arms around Vairya. “Don’t be afraid.”
He had meant to keep his embrace loose and comforting, but Vairya seized hold of him tightly, pressing warm skin and cooler metal against Reuben. “Why ever not?”
Reuben shrugged but tightened his hold. “It doesn’t help. Just keep living until our time runs out.”
Vairya pressed his cheek against Reuben’s shoulder and let out a rough laugh. “Believe it or not, that was where I was trying to go with this. I didn’t mean to—” His voice caught.
He was shaking, and Reuben ran his hand down his spine, closing his eyes. It had been a long time since he had comforted anyone or been comforted himself, and he was caught now between wanting Vairya to conquer his fear, to be steady in the world again, and wanting to just stay here, like this, locked in this warmth for as long as they could.
“Ssh,” he murmured, rocking Vairya slightly. “I’ve got you.”
“Yes,” Vairya sighed and looked up. There were tears caught on his lashes and Reuben wondered how that worked. Who had crafted his tear ducts?
This close, he could see every tiny imperfection in Vairya’s face, the subtle wear and tear of a face well lived in, the creases around his eyes, the rough edge of a chapped lip, the shadows below his eyes. At first sight, Vairya had looked like a warrior angel, or a legendary prince, art more than flesh.
Now he looked like a man, and Reuben’s breath caught a little.
Vairya had kissed him in the garden, and suddenly he wanted it again now, where it would count for more. Because Vairya was right, they were about to die, and suddenly his skin itched with it, and his gut clenched with need, and Vairya was right there, too sad and perfect for Reuben to touch with impunity.
“I didn’t intend to cry on you,” Vairya said, and his mouth turned up again, the faintest attempt at a smile. “I had other plans.”
“‘The best laid plans—’” Reuben began, but Vairya laid his hand over his mouth, shushing him.
“Actually,” he said firmly, “I intended to spend our last free moments doing this.”
And he dropped his hand and kissed Reuben.
Reuben breathed into it, his whole body surging forwards in relief, and Vairya gasped.
It was rough, clumsy even, mouths clashing, his legs trapped against the edge of the bed, Vairya’s hand trapped between them, knuckles curled against Reuben’s chest.
And yet his heart rose, and his body tensed and relaxed, as if he had suddenly taken flight, and it was all he could do not to pull away and swear wildly, because this was not how kisses were supposed to be, not how they had ever been. They weren’t supposed to sing through him like this, weren’t supposed to make him crush Vairya tighter in his arms, weren’t supposed to fill his sour, shadowed heart with sudden, relentless light.
There were poets who had written of such things. He knew that. He had read them.
But he couldn’t remember them, not when Vairya was kissing him.
When Vairya pulled away, Reuben groaned, tugging at his shoulders to pull him back.
Vairya didn’t move, but just stared at him, his eyes wide with shock.
“Reuben,” he said, breath gusting out. “Reuben.”
Reuben slid his hand up into Vairya’s hair, cupped his skull, and tried to pull him back. “More.”
“Yes,” Vairya said and fell back against him, pushing at him until they both went crashing to the bed.
Vairya’s weight on top of him was so good, and Reuben pulled him closer, rising back into his kiss as he reached under Vairya’s flimsy tunic to press his palms against ridges of metal, cables shivering with static, skin. He was hard, his cock a bar against Reuben’s thigh.
His hands were tingling, and Vairya shuddered on top of him, his whole body going tight as he dragged his mouth away. He looked wild, his pupils blown and his cheeks as bright as roses. “What the fuck is this?”
“Nanites?” Reuben suggested, drawing in a desperate breath. “Adrenaline. Impending death. I don’t care.”
Vairya scrambled off him, back to his feet at the end of the bed. Reuben sat up, waiting for the urgency to fade now they were no longer touching.
Instead, he found himself staring, watching every laboured breath Vairya took.
“Vairya,” he said, because he didn’t care why this was different, not when it was the last chance either of them would ever have. “Vairya.”
Vairya took another breath, his shoulders rising, and then wet his lips. “Reuben,” he said, voice huskier than before. “Take your damn clothes off.”
Reuben smiled, and it didn’t even feel out of place on his face. Without looking away from Vairya, he stripped his clothes off, throwing them to the side of the bed and then propped himself up on his elbows, aware of every stir of the air against his bare skin.
He wasn’t pretty, never had been, but he was strong. When he had been famous, people had called him handsome from time to time, but he had always known that was more about the fame than the breadth of his shoulders. After all, the same journalists had called him a treacherous
brute a few years later.
Right now, though, watching the blush rise in Vairya’s cheeks, he wanted to be seen. Even more, he wanted to be touched.
“Just going to stand there and look?” he demanded.
“No,” Vairya murmured and lifted his hands to struggle with the knotted cord that fastened his tunic over his shoulder. When it broke free, the whole flimsy garment simply fell off him, catching for a moment on his risen cock until he shoved it right away and stood exposed to Reuben’s gaze.
Perhaps, Reuben thought, transfixed, he had chosen roses to match all the colours of his skin, white in the curve of his wrist, pink across his cheeks, blush red as his cock where it stood full against his belly.
Only the silver plates of his chest and the metal twists at his hips and down his forearms did not match.
Vairya followed his gaze and said, dropping his eyes, “They didn’t have time to finish us. I function, but skin over those last components was aesthetic.”
“Will it hurt you, if I touch them?”
“No. There are no nerves there. They put in enough that I could understand what it means to be a man, but the Enemy were at the gate.”
Reuben sat up and reached out, pressing his hands over gleaming metal. “You’re beautiful.”
Vairya curled his lip. “In places.”
Reuben kissed him, pressing his mouth to the soft skin of his navel, to his open palm, the subtle curve of his throat, his mouth, which softened against his as he drew Vairya down, skin against skin, need rising through them again as their legs tangled, and their hips slotted together.
It was easy to turn, pressing Vairya down against his pillows, and then to run his hand down the length of his body, sliding over skin and steel alike until he closed his hand over Vairya’s cock.
“Reuben,” Vairya murmured and reached out himself. His grip was firm, and Reuben thrust against his hold in relief as he kissed him again.
He had meant to keep it gentle, to draw out every damn moment, but Vairya’s hips rose up hard and fast, his breathing quickening, and his urgency seemed to infect Reuben, making his heart beat faster and his body shudder in response.
His kiss went sloppy, and Vairya grabbed his hair to hold him in place, his hand quickening on Reuben’s cock as they kissed and thrust and gasped against each other, sweat gathering until their hands grew clumsy, and all the while fire was gathering under Reuben’s skin, in his balls, at the head of his cock as Vairya slid his thumb across the slickness gathering there.
Reuben groaned, and Vairya rocked against him faster, shoving against Reuben’s hand as he scraped his teeth across his lip, and Reuben had to move his hand, had to drive him into more gasps and shudders, had to make him writhe and squirm, because he couldn’t stop watching the pleasure rush across Vairya’s face, couldn’t stop his own hips from jerking forwards, faster and harder, unstoppable now, as it rose through him in a rush that made his head spin and his body convulse.
Dimly, he felt Vairya shake against him, and then he was the one sprawled across the sheets as Vairya straddled him, hand jerking on his own cock until he spilled, his whole body going still.
When he slumped forwards, Reuben caught him and held him. Where he spread his hand across Vairya’s back, he could feel the thunder of his pulse, and it made him shiver and want again.
“Tell me,” Vairya breathed against his neck, “that was just a warm up.”
Reuben kissed the nearest bit of skin, the place where Vairya’s ear met his jaw. “Took the edge off, right?”
“I want more.”
“You’ll get more.” He chuckled a little, self-conscious. “Might even manage to make it last next time.”
“Yeah,” Vairya murmured, his hips shifting. Reuben felt the faint stir of Vairya’s cock against him, and the answering throb of his own. He wasn’t going to stir much more than that yet, but Vairya… well, Vairya didn’t seem to have that particular human limit, because he was half-hard again already.
Contentedly, Reuben spread his legs, and Vairya pressed closer with a happy mumble, erection sliding along the crease of Reuben’s thigh.
“Do you even have a refractory period?” Reuben asked, sliding his hand down to cup Vairya’s arse.
Vairya raised his head and smirked at him, eyes half-lidded and his whole face slack with lust. “Sometimes. Complaining?”
“Not at all,” Reuben murmured and wrapped his leg over Vairya’s hip. He felt like he’d melted into the bed, his whole body lax and sated. He could barely summon the energy to bat his eyelashes at Vairya and simper, “Do be gentle with me, good sir.”
Vairya snorted laughter and bit his lip gently, making Reuben shudder happily. “For that,” Vairya muttered, pushing himself up, “I’m going to take terrible advantage of you.”
Reuben reached under the pillow for his lube, tossed it at Vairya, and then folded his arms behind his head. “Go ahead. Ravage me.”
Vairya’s grin went sharp and appreciative. “Seriously? How long until the afterglow wears off, and you start getting cranky again?”
“Not yet,” Reuben said, “but I’ll make sure to warn— oh, that’s good.”
Vairya lifted his head from where he had just fastened his mouth over Reuben’s nipple, and patted him fondly on the cheek. “Just lie back and take it, there’s a good boy.”
“You should be very glad of my afterglow,” Reuben grumbled, but he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to touch Vairya’s hair where it stood up on end.
Vairya laughed and dipped his head down again. He kissed and stroked his way down Reuben’s body, mouth and hands wandering in a way that seemed purposeless until Reuben’s cock filled again, and he began to shiver, anticipating every touch. Vairya just kept going, slapping Reuben’s hand away when he tried to reach down to return the favour, and Reuben simply gave up. Vairya kissed and touched him and sucked his cock with unrelenting tenderness. He slid his fingers into Reuben, teased him until he shuddered on the edge of oblivion, and then pulled right away for just long enough to make Reuben panic. And then he folded Reuben’s legs back and fucked into him so steadily that Reuben arched his neck and forgot everything but the rhythm of his hips, meeting every thrust as he groped for own cock, watching the shift of muscle under skin and the pulse of pistons as Vairya rode him, until, at last, Reuben’s toes curled, and his spine tingled and he came so hard he almost missed Vairya’s own cry and arch of completion.
This time they both went sprawling gracelessly across the bed, Vairya’s head tucked against his shoulder and their legs splayed.
Reuben wasn’t sure how long they lay there, but suddenly, the ship shook beneath them, a long grinding roll that made their discarded clothes go sliding across the floor.
“What the hell?” Reuben said.
“The city just shifted to start approaching the sun,” Vairya said, sitting up. “‘This is how the world ends.’”
Chapter Eight
“‘NOT WITH a bang but with a whimper,’” Reuben murmured. “I wouldn’t have thought Eliot was to your taste.”
“Nonetheless, I remember it.” Vairya’s eyes were sad again. “I remember everything.”
The com buzzed. “Dr Cooper, we’re all gathered on the bridge.”
“We’re on our way,” Reuben said, reaching for his clothes. He tossed Vairya the pile he had got out earlier and then changed his mind, dropping back to the bed to kiss Vairya hard.
Vairya locked his arms around Reuben’s neck and returned his kiss with equal force. Then he pulled back enough to say, “‘The game’s afoot.’”
“And we stand ‘like greyhounds in the slips’?” Reuben inquired dryly and pulled his clothes back on as Vairya broke into a delighted smile.
“Oh, Dr Cooper,” he said, wriggling into a set of Reuben’s spare clothes, “I do wish I had more time with you.”
Reuben’s throat tightened and for a few wild seconds he indulged in might-have-beens, vague colourful dreams of gardens and pageants an
d Vairya’s sly, bright smile. Then, because he was a realist, he put his dreams aside and said, a little self-consciously, “It’s mutual. Pass me my shirt.”
“Such romance,” Vairya muttered and surprised him by offering him the gleaming cord from his chiton. When Reuben looked puzzled, Vairya sighed and looped it over his belt. “There. My token, before you ride into battle, Sir Knight.”
“Shouldn’t you have something of mine as well?” Reuben asked with that same warm clutch of his heart.
Vairya raised his eyebrow. “Besides the fact I’m wearing your underwear?”
A laugh cracked out of Reuben, surprising him, and he shot back, “Such romance.”
Vairya met his gaze with such warm amusement that Reuben couldn’t help smiling back, despite the fact that the world was collapsing around them, his spirits lifting against all sense and reason.
Damn it. Not here, not now, not this impossible man.
“We should go,” he said.
“‘Once more into the breach,’” Vairya agreed, and they headed up towards the bridge, Vairya reciting Shakespeare with relish.
Once they were there, the mood turned sombre. Eskil was tucked into his pilot’s chair, looking miserable, and the other two were standing by the window, staring down at the city from where they were docked on the edge of the upper shell.
“Took your time,” Meili said.
“Sorry,” Reuben said to forestall the argument. “We’re on the move.”
“Yes,” Chanthavy said. “How long do we have?”
“The city has no hyperdrive,” Vairya said. “It will take three days before we’re close enough that there can be no escape.”
“Is there any way they can escape the city in that time?” Reuben asked. The others turned towards him and he shrugged. “That has to be our first priority. I’m surprised they haven’t tried to move yet.”
“They’re not intelligent,” Vairya said, “not in anything more than the most instinctive way. They multiply, and they assess everything they come across to see if it can be utilised to help them spread. If it cannot, they transform it. They don’t strategise beyond that. They wouldn’t think to seek out a different ship, for instance, but if they came across one, they would put it to use.”
In Heaven and Earth Page 7
