This Work Is Part Of A Series (The Messenger Archive Book 2)

by DC Bastien

  "I don't like sitting on my ass!" Vadim felt helpless. He did not like feeling helpless. He liked taking boxes from one place to another and being paid. And using the pay to buy food and services. And sleeping. And shouting at people. He liked all of those things. He did not like losing his crew and he did not like sitting on his hands afterwards.

  "We have to tread carefully, Vadim," Peters said in his best 'calming' voice. "We can't just roll up to Raboros and demand them back."

  "So we... just leave them?"

  "We stop whatever political nightmare is about to happen on Draqqi, and we work out a way to get to Kre and Biann."

  "How! All anyone throws at me is problems! Problems and politics. Why can't I just walk up with my gun and say I'll shoot people until they give me back my crew?"

  Vadim knew, on one level, that he was being unreasonable now. That he'd gone a step too far. The hand on his shoulder - Avery - was annoying, rather than reassuring. He shrugged it off.

  "I need some air," he mumbled, and stormed out. His cheeks and ears burned with embarrassment, not liking what he'd stooped to.

  ***

  [Ashroe: Poor baby, I understand. I feel the same way, sometimes. We were... a bit ambitious, weren't we?]

  [Sianor: We were. I don't think I actually understood the scale of things when we started. Things just... got away from us.]

  [Ashroe: I'm beginning to wonder if we can even finish this. I mean... it's daunting. We've moved away from their episodic 'issue of the week' with vague hints at a larger power in the background to... well. Dynastic concerns and mass media and I'm starting to hyperventilate thinking about it.]

  [Sianor: I don't think it helps that we haven't really decided how we... well. How the end end game plays out. Like... what would be the end of this if it was a series arc on the television.]

  [Ashroe: And the Judge made a good point. We're going to need to consider the Hleen, Human and Roq in this, too.]

  [Sianor: Do you think people will even read it?]

  [Ashroe: I think some people will, but even if they don't... are you enjoying it?]

  [Sianor: I am! I am enjoying it as much as if I was reading it. More, in a way. They keep throwing in twists and turns that I didn't expect, and it's becoming a whole little universe all of its own.]

  [Ashroe: I think... if we want to answer the Question that it will need another story. Unless this one goes on for a long, long time. But as we already have two parts, we could make it into another section.]

  [Sianor: Once upon a time, if you suggested that to me, I'd wonder how we'd come up with the words to fill the pages. Now I'm wondering if we'll still be writing this long after the show is cancelled.]

  [Ashroe: I also want to know if she did it or not.]

  [Sianor: Eru?]

  [Ashroe: Yeah.]

  [Sianor: Don't you know?]

  [Ashroe: I'm not sure. Every time I think I know... something convinces me otherwise. It could be she's a very good manipulator, or it could be that she's just a victim of circumstance. Kre said Cil wasn't very interested in power, he was more of a poet's soul.]

  [Sianor: So he wouldn't really want the throne.]

  [Ashroe: But neither does Kre, and that hasn't stopped the attempts on her life. GAH. I love and I hate when I can't tell for sure who is lying to me.]

  [Sianor: I think it's cool. Especially because you're letting them - the them in your head - be true to themselves.]

  [Ashroe: It's weird. I took to her more than any OC I've had before, and she... she is hardly shown. Still, I can hear her voice perfectly. I can't pin down if it's someone I've heard before - in real life or on the TV - but the tone, the patter... it's all just there.]

  [Sianor: How do you... how do you... this will sound strange. See your writing?]

  [Ashroe: Oh... you mean how do I... feel it?]

  [Sianor: Kinda.]

  [Ashroe: Words, first. I get dialogue, and thoughts. I get the movement of a person through a space, their body-language, the hand-gestures, the eye movements. That's sharpest in focus, and then the rest is just set-dressing.]

  [Sianor: Interesting. What about locations?]

  [Ashroe: Those are kind of secondary to me. But you tend to put more detail in, from what I've seen?]

  [Sianor: I think I'm a bit more visual. I hear the dialogue, but I'm very conscious of where the light is, the doors, how the world looks. I sometimes forget to write it, though. It's so clear in my head that I don't always put it down, because I forget others can't see the pictures behind my eyes.]

  [Ashroe: What about your dreams?]

  [Sianor: Oh... hm. I know I dream in colour, because it's been a plot point. And sound. And feeling. I've had dreams of pain.]

  [Ashroe: Not the pain, yes to the rest. You have plot to them, as well?]

  [Sianor: Yep, almost always. Sometimes the plot wouldn't hold up well to an awake mind, but works in the dream. I think I occasionally get them running into one another. Sometimes I wake and think I have an awesome book idea, but by the time I've brushed my teeth it's gone.]

  [Ashroe: Keep a dream journal!]

  [Sianor: But what if I do and the ideas turn out to be complete and utter nonsense?]

  [Ashroe: What if they don't? Can you risk that?]

  [Sianor: I... OK. Maybe. What about you?]

  [Ashroe: There's normally some goal or plot. Often it's something I heard in the day, even a tiny thing, and it turns into a huge storyline. Often the story is distressing - or it should be - and I don't feel fear or worry. It's bizarre. Like an anti-nightmare, or a neutered one.]

  [Sianor: Do you dream you're you?]

  [Ashroe: Sometimes, but often not. Often I am actually a third person, or I jump from one person to another.]

  [Sianor: I am always there. If I am not in the story, I am watching. But I do get omniscient, and see things I shouldn't.]

  [Ashroe: That sounds interesting. Ever lucid dream?]

  [Sianor: Is that where you control it? If so: yes. But only once. And not for very long.]

  [Ashroe: I used to do it all the time as a kid. I'd have terrible trouble getting off to sleep, because my mind would just whir constantly. Better now. Probably because I wear myself out.]

  [Sianor: So... do you dream as... guys?]

  [Ashroe: Oh, frequently. And often I'm every major person in the dream.]

  [Sianor: Interesting. Do you dream of our fic?]

  [Ashroe: I have, yes. But it was a silly dream: we were trying to get them all onto a train. I think we were going shopping, but I can't quite remember it. You had to manhandle your muses, and me mine. In the end we just gave up and left them to it.]

  [Sianor: Aww, that is strangely adorable.]

  [Ashroe: What about you?]

  [Sianor: I haven't dreamt about the fic, or the characters, but I dream about random stuff and you wander in sometimes. Except, I don't see... faces? In dreams. I know who the people are, but the... faces are kind of... blank? But not in a creepy way.]

  [Ashroe: Hmm. Have you always dreamt like that?]

  [Sianor: I think so. Maybe my mind is keeping processing power back for the terrible B-movie story-lines!]

  [Ashroe: I need to get going... you got a request for my dream tonight?]

  [Sianor: Dream up what the boys are going to get up to. I assume we're going to have them... er. Hug. Sometime.]

  [Ashroe: Ithon's currently complaining his balls are blue, so yes. I thought Kip didn't want to with the Judge around?]

  [Sianor: Sometimes he says he doesn't want things, but he does. Er. I don't mean like... rape.]

  [Ashroe: No, I know. Ithon wouldn't ever if he thought he was uncomfortable, it goes without saying.]

  [Sianor: No means no. But 'you're an ass' means 'probably'.]

  [Ashroe: ...so noted.]

  [Sianor: You're an ass <3]

  [Ashroe: Love you too <3<3<3]

  ***

  Chapter Nineteen - Mission: Fixation

  [Ashroe: Wait... chapter n
ineteen?]

  [Sianor: Yes.]

  [Ashroe: You know that's when... last time?]

  [Sianor: Oh shit, is it?]

  [Sianor: You're right. Oh god. Should we - er - skip to the girls?]

  [Ashroe: No, it's funny! Maybe they have a thing for the number. Does it get them horny?]

  [Sianor: I don't know! But you're going to break 19 forever for me.]

  [Ashroe: You're welcome.]

  ***

  "I'm probably not good company, right now."

  No, Avery thought, as he looked at the tense line of the other man's shoulders, the clenched fists, the anger that radiated from him in broad, hot waves.

  "I've seen you worse than this."

  "I just... I thought we were going to get them back."

  "So did I. And we will. Just not... as quickly as we thought."

  "We know where they are! All of them!"

  "We think we know where they are. But... do you want to charge in and get them hurt? Or worse?"

  Avery was ready for the spin, and he left enough space for it, but just enough. He stood facing him, trying to radiate calm back towards the shorter man.

  "I wanted. Out. From all of this..." a hand that took in the ship, the planet, the Ur, and more. "I wanted a simple life."

  "You're not a simple man, Kip. You could be. You could have just backed away from all of this, but you didn't. You could have kept your nose down, and maybe lost Kre, maybe not... but you didn't. You won't. You don't look for danger, but you don't run away from it, either. Nor should you."

  "Why can't I be? Why can't I be simple? Why am I always the one responsible for the mess?"

  "Because, Captain, when you took that title on, you took the responsibility on. And you know it. You're responsible for those kids, and you like it. Don't say you don't, because that's a lie. You're just stepping into a new battlefield. One of words, not guns. The Judge is better at it than either of us, so we have to trust him. And you do, don't you?"

  Vadim nodded, and Avery felt relieved. It was difficult to give someone as bull-headed as Kip a talking-to. "Good."

  "I'm going to make them pay, when I find out who it is. I am."

  "I know you are." A step closer, and he grabbed his upper arms, squeezing them. "You'll get them all back. You will: believe in it."

  "I... I owe them."

  "I know you do. And you'll pull through, but not if you're cut up all the time. Alright?"

  A dull nod, and Avery decided he needed a little more encouragement. That, or he needed it. He moved his hand up his arm, to the back of Kip's neck. Fingers trailed into the trim, dark hair... and he moved close enough to breathe over his face. Pausing. Testing the waters.

  "Just kiss me," Kip whispered, his voice almost breaking.

  "Aye, aye, Cap'n." He bent his head just that little bit more, tilted to one side, and parted his lips. A slow, dragging touch to Vadim's mouth, enjoying the way his breath came more ragged and tense. Again, and this time he pulled at the other man's lips with his... until he finally let go and bit the lower one firmly, but not harshly, grinning at the gasp that got him.

  "Fucking tease," Vadim growled, even as Avery licked it better.

  "Only a tease if I don't put out."

  "But what about--?"

  "Peters? He's a smart man. This is a big ship. We have some time to ourselves."

  "I meant the search for my crew."

  "That, too. You need to unwind. I can stop, if you want me to, though...?"

  The hands that reached around and grabbed hold of his ass, pulling him in flush to rub groin-to-groin through the fabric of their trousers said that wasn't on the cards.

  "I hate you," Vadim complained.

  "The feeling is mutual."

  The feeling really was mutual, if the hardness he could feel pressed against him was anything to go by. They'd done nothing but trade barbs and one, hurried kiss since they'd been reunited. Mostly because there'd been pressing other matters, but Avery didn't think this was taking advantage, more... reconnecting. The hands on his ass were pulling and pawing, and Vadim was all but humping himself silly. He walked him backwards into the nearest wall, eliciting a sharp yelp of protest.

  "Easy! I'm not twenty anymore!"

  "Kip, you were born old," Avery complained, and then grabbed a handful of hair, tugging his head to one side so he could lick over the exposed column of his throat.

  "F-f-fuck!"

  The only problem with biting down over that delicate, soft skin was that when you had your mouth full, you couldn't snark back. Instead, he clamped his teeth over the join between shoulder and neck and sucked. He didn't care if he left a mark or-- no. Let's be honest: he wanted it to mark. He wanted a faint, slightly stinging reminder on that skin. He wanted to write his name all over it, so any Sianar or Roq could smell it, and any Hleen or Human could see it. He worried at the skin until Kip was kicking his foot back against the wall in frustration, a hand up to his own mouth to bite down.

  Cute. He didn't want to scream.

  Only problem was... Ithon wanted him to.

  He remembered something he'd been told once - some anecdotal trophy about the latest bombshell Kip had banged - and decided then and there.

  "Wait, Ith, what the--?"

  "Hush, man. Don't you know what a man on his knees normally means?" Ithon looked up, wryly amused, from his position on the floor. "I can't believe I need to give the great Kip Vadim lessons."

  "No, I-- oh... SHIT."

  He didn't even have his slacks open, just a hand squeezing at the bulge in the front, kneading over his groin. Ithon smirked, loving the way Kip alternated between slamming his head back on the bulkhead, and staring down at him like a lost little lamb. And if he was the lamb, then Ithon was the wolf.

  "Look me in the eyes, Kip."

  He did, and Ithon loved to see how the black spread out to almost overwhelm them. Grinning, he tugged down the fly with excruciating slowness, every metal tooth a tombstone of a moment.

  "Ithon..."

  "I'm going to make you feel good, Kip. I'm going to make you feel so good. Understand?"

  That got him a nod, and he pushed his fingers in, wriggling around the ridiculous paper-spaceship patterned monstrosities he was wearing, looking for a way in. Kip had one hand behind him, flat to the bulkhead, and the other tangled in his own messy, dark hair. He looked beautiful. Beautiful and wrecked. Ithon fondled under his heavy balls, rolling them back and forth gently, tugging him free of his stupid clothes, but leaving his pants still up.

  "Ith, I missed you."

  "Missed me, or missed this?" And 'this' was a sudden flicker of his tongue over the tip of his cock, just the barest taste of him.

  Kip's head went back again, and another curse-word came out. This time, it wasn't Human.

  "I said look at me."

  "Ith--"

  "Look at me."

  Eye-contact again, and he made sure it continued - up through his lashes - as he wrapped his lips around the crown and suckled. And suckled. And used his tongue to prod and poke at the sensitive head of his dick. Kip's cheeks were flushed pink and his chest was heaving, but he didn't look away. He barely dared blink.

  Teeth. Just a little, but enough. A circle of white enamel digging in, and at the hiss of pleasure and worry, he relaxed as much as he could and swallowed him down.

  Okay. He'd never actually done it before, so maybe he should have been a bit less enthusiastic. Sure, he'd done things with bananas in anticipation, but the hands grabbing at his shoulder and his hair were distracting, and it was hard to cope with the thick shaft in his mouth. Just when he was a little worried he would black out, he pulled back just as Kip tugged him free, too.

  "Jesus, Ith, are you insane?"

  "Possibly," he croaked, and grinned. "I'm not done yet."

  "You're going to fucking kill yourself. Or me."

  "No, I'm not into necrophilia. Could we just go with 'pretty much awesome' instead?"

  Still, the lo
ok of concern and the hand clenching his shoulder was nice. And reassuring. He decided he should be a bit more cautious the next time, and crouched lower to deliver a series of flat-tongued, rough licks that started down by his balls and wandered slowly up, testing and probing to find the most responsive areas. There was a strange line somewhere, somehow, and he found it was nice to lick at that, so he did. He'd forgotten about the eye-contact thing, too busy gripping Kip by the hips so he could carry on.

  "Oh god, where the hell did you learn to suck cock like that?"

  "I didn't," Ithon snorted. "Not really. I'm just a quick learner."

  "God help me when you've had more practice, then."

  "Well, if you keep running off to get into trouble, there's going to be breaks in my education. But if you want me to make effective use of my time..."

  "Okay. Yes. Hell, yes."

  Ithon rubbed his cheek against the silky shaft, liking the feeling of the skin, there, and the change in sensation. He swallowed a few times, to get his throat back working, and tried to wet his mouth again. One hand moved to stroke quickly up and down, up and down, and then he held him still and licked and nibbled his way up to the head again, finding the place underneath that made Kip kick back at the wall with one foot, and bite his hand on a yelp. Definitely a good place.