by Kelly Jensen
“I know. I recognized the sedative hangover this morning.” Had that only been this morning? Felix held up the pouch. “But you could use the rest.” And the hydration. Zed’s metabolism was a lot faster than his. He had to be starving, thirsty and tripping over the edge of exhaustion.
Shaking his head, Zed stepped away from the small pool. “We need to stay alert.”
“Still, you should sleep first. I’ll keep watch.” While Zed visibly struggled between the need to remain awake, alert and in control of the mission and the fatigue pulling his shoulders toward the ground, Felix continued, “You need the rest more than I do. If we’re up against it, your abilities are going to be our only advantage. Besides, I slept half the day away while Preston poked around in my shoulder.”
He offered up the pouch and Zed waved it away. “Save it. Could come in handy.”
“Okay.” Felix tucked the pouch back into his pocket and turned to indicate the depression behind him. “How about we set up in here.” Above the crater, dusk had arrived, spreading deeper shadows across the crater floor. The underside of the overhang didn’t look as appealing as it had before the sun had set. But it seemed like a better idea than being completely exposed. “It’s not much, but I kinda like the idea of sleeping with a roof over my head.”
“Half a roof.”
“Better than nothing.”
Felix sat with his back to the wall and Zed flopped down next to him. Felix held out his hand. “Here, pass over all the stunners you’ve got. I’ll fiddle with them, see if I can’t increase the charge and delivery.”
“Good idea.”
Soon, Felix had a pile of three stunners in his lap. Beside him, Zed leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Felix watched him for a breath or two, half admiring the profile that seemed all at once foreign and familiar. The feeling twisting through his chest wasn’t strange, though. The weird tug against his heart he always associated with love.
Reaching out, he stroked the back of his human fingers over Zed’s cheek. “I love you.”
Zed’s fingers covered his. “I know. I feel it every time you touch me. I see it every time you look at me.”
“Even when I’m pissed?”
“Even then.” Zed squeezed his fingers.
“If...” Felix swallowed. “If we manage to get off this rock and, ah, you know, did the marriage thing, would you want kids?”
Zed’s eyelids snapped upward. He cast a sideways look at Felix. “Kids?”
A tendril of longing drifted through the simple touch between their fingers.
Felix sucked in a breath. “You do.”
Zed’s throat moved.
Pulling his fingers away, Felix looked down at the stunners in his lap. “That might not be so bad, you know. If you had kids, you’d want to stay with them, right? Not go adventuring around the galaxy chasing down skips and bounties or delivering crap, or being chased by madmen and criminals, or at the beck and call of Central or the Guardians.”
“First of all, if we had children, they’d be ours, Flick. Not mine. Second...now really isn’t the time to talk about this.”
“But is that why you want to get married? To get all settled?”
Zed took a while to answer. “Maybe? Do I think being married will mean we won’t find ourselves stuck in a crater on a planet some lunatic decided to call Paradise? No.” He grabbed Felix’s hand. “I think it will mean you and me are it. Absolute. Bonded in every way.”
Felix already felt that way. Always had. Why did Zed need an official pronouncement to get there?
After delivering a gentle squeeze to Zed’s hand, Felix disentangled his fingers. He didn’t want Zed to be party to the thoughts he needed to let roll through his head. “I’m thinking about it, okay?”
“Okay.” Zed might have smiled—the light had faded so much Felix could barely make out his face. But the frisson of connection lingering between them felt hopeful.
Zed’s breathing deepened and slowed again and Felix let him go. Activating his bracelet, he chose a bright holo and picked up a stunner. All three were the same make and model and within minutes he’d formulated a plan to use one to boost the charge and output of the other two. Lifting his crystal hand, he concentrated on the tip of his index finger and watched as it extended, thinned and formed a fine point, which he carefully fashioned into a six-lobed Torx. Another moment of thought hardened his tool. The idea of snapping off the tip of his finger in a screw did not appeal, especially as he already had one to regrow. He could regrow it, couldn’t he? His shoulder ached, but his arm felt as it should. Connected to him, a part of him. Good and whole, even with the missing finger—which, oddly, didn’t pain him. It was just gone.
Zed began to snore as Felix worked. Smiling, Felix spared a glance for his lover now and again, and let his thoughts wander along the question of marriage and what it meant to Zed. Why he needed an official proclamation, despite knowing the depth of Felix’s love for him. Being able to see it and feel it, all the time.
Was it an Anatolius thing? Did Zed simply need a virtual rubber stamp on their relationship for the sake of his family? Or did Zed have a need to have his own affairs in order? He was a thinker and a planner. He’d reorganized all the finances for the Chaos and had retooled their insurance policies. He’d tweaked their schedules and had been the one to suggest using the asteroid as a warehouse.
Did the idea of marriage suit his sense of order?
No, it couldn’t be that. Zed was the most romantic guy Felix knew. He was always buying gifts. Toys, holo comics and superhero holos, components for his projects, shipments of fresh fruit, shirts Felix didn’t want to wear because they were altogether too fine and fancy, but liked to admire because...they were very fine (and fancy). Two bracelets. Boots. Nights out on Alpha to listen to a band or watch a play. Felix didn’t really enjoy the latter, but he went along because Zed liked it.
Felix snapped the case of the second retooled stunner back together and scooped up the leftover parts to tuck into a pocket. Waste nothing. Then he held out his crystal hand and concentrated on the stub of his missing finger. His thoughts wandered toward Zed.
Did he give enough back? Was he romantic enough for Zed? When was the last time he’d bought him something in return? Felix couldn’t remember. He’d jiggered a wallet so Zed could expand one of the holo projections across his lap like a keyboard, and he’d expanded the memory so Zed could compose as much music as he liked without worrying about storage and bandwidth. But that had just been tinkering. Not really a gift and not romantic.
When they got out of this mess, he should make a gesture. Do something...nice.
That decided, Felix turned his attention back to the stump at the base of his hand and hesitated. He really wanted to try to regrow his finger, but he was already exhausted. He wasn’t sure he had the strength, let alone the mental fortitude. Also, what if they were recaptured and Preston figured out he could replace whatever she cut away? A shudder grabbed his shoulders. Nope, not happening.
Felix tipped his head back against the rock behind him and looked up at the night sky. No stars poked through the dense atmosphere, only diffuse moonlight. At least it wasn’t completely dark.
* * *
A massive crash woke Zed. He slammed into awareness, his heart pounding. Artillery fire? Fuck! How had the stin gotten so close? What planet was he on? He reached for the comms unit that would be tucked into his ear—it was always there when he had boots on the ground. Except...there was nothing.
What the...
Right. Paradise. Stranded, on the run. Shit, had a patrol found them? Zed tensed, listening for any shouts, and held a hand over Flick’s shoulder, ready to shake him awake at the first indication—
Light flashed violently overhead, followed by a harsh crash. Not artillery fire or a patrol—thunder. The tan
g of ozone in the air wasn’t from weapons—it was lightning. God, it had been so long since Zed had experienced the energy of a thunderstorm. He’d forgotten how the air became polarized, making his skin tingle and the hairs on his arms stand on end.
And Flick was sleeping through it. When he was supposed to be on watch. Zed sighed, but he couldn’t really blame Flick for fading out. They were both exhausted, injured—mobile, yeah, but nowhere close to one hundred percent. They needed sleep. At least the storm had likely chased any search parties back into the shelter of the caves and settlement.
Zed stretched out beside Flick, tucking himself against his back and pressing his lips to Flick’s neck. Flick grunted, a sound that quickly turned into a snuffle, and Zed smiled. Despite the oddly purple-orange flash of lightning, he still wasn’t quite prepared for the intensity of the thunder. His arms tightened around Flick, who grunted again, and sparks across their connection said he was waking.
“Sorry,” Zed breathed. “It’s just me.”
“You’re loud.” The words were barely intelligible.
“Oh, well, that was the thunder.”
Flick’s body stiffened as he jolted fully awake. “Thunder?”
“Hey, it’s okay.”
“Fucking hate planets.” But the tension drained out of Flick’s muscles, a trickle at a time.
Until the next crash.
“Fuck.”
“Shh. Got you,” Zed murmured. He nosed Flick’s ear.
“Stop. Not in the mood.”
“It’s just noise. Can’t hurt us.”
“Lightning is not just noise.”
“Yeah, but that’s not what you’re afraid of.”
Flick was silent, but tense, through another flash and crash.
“This storm is a good thing,” Zed said as the last growls of thunder died away. “No one’s going to be out looking for us, not in this. It’s a reprieve.” He pressed a soft kiss to the delicate skin beneath Flick’s ear. “Feel the charge in the air?”
“I don’t like it,” Flick grumbled.
Zed hummed. “I kinda do. It feels wild. Uncontrolled.” Another boom. He nipped at Flick’s ear to distract him. “Ever make love in a storm?”
Flick sucked in a breath and groaned, pushing against Zed. “No,” he said, his voice shaky.
Zed stretched the neck of Flick’s shirt and sank his teeth into the meat of his shoulder, giving him yet another sensation to focus on rather than the flash in the sky or the rumble of the thunder. There was no rain yet—the entire world seemed to be balanced on a knife’s edge as it waited for the skies to open up.
He’d started out with only the intention to distract Flick from the riot happening in the sky above them, but the idea of reconnecting with Flick like this, now, after their brief conversation about marriage and kids—hell, after escaping Preston when he’d been worried they couldn’t...
Yes, please.
“Wild, huh?” Flick rasped.
Zed licked the indents his teeth had left in Flick’s skin. They’d be gone in moments. “Yeah.”
“Show me.”
Zed smiled. “Sit up, back against the wall.”
He moved back so Flick had room to position himself—but as soon as he was comfortable, Zed moved in. He straddled Flick’s hips on his knees, his hands braced on the wall over Flick’s shoulders, and leaned in for a kiss.
Lightning could have struck right beside him and he wouldn’t have abandoned Flick’s lips. Kisses like this—hot, fevered, with teeth and tongue battling—were more important than storms. More important than breathing. Zed moaned into Flick’s mouth as his covered cock brushed against Flick’s stomach. Then Flick grabbed his ass and pressed down, and it was so fucking good.
God, he wanted Flick inside him. Wouldn’t happen right now or until they got off this rock—spit might work as lube in the porn holos, but Zed wasn’t keen on a sore asshole for however many days they were left on Paradise. But this—rubbing, riding, mimicking the movements of penetration—it worked. Fuck, did it work.
His fingers scrambled at the fly of his pants, opening it, parting it and fishing out his hard cock. Then he did the same for Flick. The first touch of hot steel against hot steel took Zed’s breath away. Energy prickled his skin as the world around them flashed purple and orange, heightening the feeling of everything. He took both their cocks into one of his hands and closed his eyes at the sensation.
“So good,” he whispered against Flick’s mouth.
The thunder ate Flick’s response, but it didn’t matter. He pumped. They moved in unison, finding the rhythm of their own dance, the one they’d all but perfected in the past year. He knew exactly how Flick liked to be touched, how hard to grip, how fast to go, how to move and twist his palm to drag every drop of pleasure from Flick. Flick, in turn, knew just how to hold Zed’s hips—firm, tight and insistently, pulling him against Flick’s groin again and again. All the while, their pleasure leaked across their connection, ramping each other’s even higher.
It had never been like this with anyone. It never could be, because no one else was Flick.
The skies opened. Rain pummeled their makeshift shelter, hitting the ground with enough force to splash back upward onto their legs. The air was suddenly alive—not just charged from the storm, but like a living thing. Warm, comforting. Zed opened his eyes, not knowing when he’d closed them, to look down at Flick. Flick looked up, his eyes glinting with mischief—and that’s when Zed realized that one of Flick’s hands had abandoned his hip.
He cried out as clever fingers tweaked the barbell in his nipple, sending the sensation shooting straight to his cock. “Again,” he panted. Flick’s other hand joined the party, pushing Zed’s shirt up. His nipples were squeezed in unison and Zed lost it, coming with a shout swallowed by the roar of the rain. Warmth flooded his hand and he kept moving until Flick stiffened beneath him, his climax silent but no less forceful. Semen hit Zed’s chin and he smiled, proud of the fact that he’d made Flick shoot so hard.
He fell forward, leaning his head on Flick’s shoulder as he caught his breath. Flick seemed in no hurry to get him to move—he sat boneless and sated beneath Zed, his heart thumping hard enough that Zed could feel it against his own chest. Or maybe that was his. After a moment, Zed leaned back, his arms and legs feeling like wet noodles, and brought his come-covered hand up between them to take a lick.
Flick shivered and a tiny spark of lust threatened to reignite. “Love you.”
Zed didn’t have to say it back—the truth of what they felt had cascaded between them with their orgasms, as it always did. But words were how they’d first shared those feelings and Zed wouldn’t ever suggest abandoning them.
“Love you too,” he said. He wiped his hand on his pants—the smart fiber would take care of the mess—and tucked himself and Flick back beneath their flies. “Did I change your mind about thunderstorms?”
Flick snorted. “I don’t know. I think I need more convincing.”
“Maybe back on Earth? We can visit my parents’ place.” Zed settled in behind Flick again, feeling lazy and warm.
Flick’s human fingers grabbed Zed’s. “We’ll see,” he said.
Over their connection came a clear, almost brutal desire to do that again. But with lube. Chuckling, Zed closed his eyes and let the world around them dim for a little while.
Chapter Fifteen
Felix had read about the notion of rain washing a world clean. But aside from a few extra puddles, the storm left little evidence of its passage. The deeper parts of the ravine might show more, and if the gods were smiling, a few rock scragglers might have drowned.
After a night curled under the overhang, Felix felt anything but clean. He didn’t regret the bump and grind with Zed. Intimacy with the man he loved trumped anything and everythin
g. And Zed was just sexy. All the time. But even a man who regularly challenged the miraculous properties of smart fiber could find little to recommend about having his pubes stuck together.
Shucking off his clothes, he made use of one of the new puddles. The cool water felt good against his skin, as if it soothed away the gentle burn of fatigue no single night could dispel. Zed joined him and Felix took the opportunity to admire his unclothed form, again.
“More sex will make me even more hungry than I already am,” Zed warned.
“You’re supposed to be the romantic one.” Felix had intended to whine, but his tone sounded more wistful. He lifted his shirt back over his head, bandaged shoulder protesting a little less than the day before, and noted the smell hadn’t improved overnight. “I think I’ve killed the fiber in this shirt.”
“We should buy stock in a fiber company, or just start our own. In fact, you should turn your talents to inventing a better brand of smart fiber. One that can withstand the Felix Ingesson test.” Zed moved in close, hooked a hand around the back of Felix’s neck and dropped a kiss to his forehead.
Snorting, Felix pushed him away, but the gears in his mind were turning. It’d been a while since he contemplated a problem that didn’t involve survival.
Stepping back, Zed adjusted his clothing and tucked one of the retooled stunners into his belt. “What’s first on our agenda?”
Felix eyed one of the untouched puddles. “Figuring out if we can drink this water?”
“Not sure I’d trust that older pool, but there’s no evidence the colonists here consider the rain toxic.”
Right, the only protection the settlement had was against the sun, and Felix hadn’t seen any water purification equipment. It might have been hidden somewhere in the vast system of caves below them, but they hadn’t seen any of that sort of machinery during their run yesterday, either.
“Well if it didn’t dissolve my junk when I was washing, I’m pretty sure it’s safe to risk a sip.” Felix knelt down and cupped a hand through the water. He smelled it first, then took a cautious sip. “Tastes like dust.”
