Wasteland
by Becca Abbott
Part 17
"I thought you were trying to kill me," said Raoul.
"It's not like I didn't think about it."
The Blondie stared at him, brows drawn together, his expression so droll that Guy couldn't keep a straight face. Raoul grinned back. "Maybe I should take back the gun."
Without a word, Guy handed it to him, but Raoul shook his head. "Keep it."
They had ridden through the afternoon, going slowly, wary of ambush. Now dark was coming again. The signal was strong, a steady pulse on the monitor now. Raoul estimated they had come within twenty miles of Iason. Guy expected that they would keep searching, but Raoul decided otherwise.
"We'll need to be doubly careful from here on," he'd said. "And take the search a street at a time. It's too risky in the dark. If they haven't killed him by now, it's unlikely that they plan to anytime soon."
Was Riki with him still, wondered Guy? He hoped so. Maybe he'd get a chance to talk to his old friend, to apologize, before Iason could come between them again. What would he tell him, other than that he was sorry? That he was beginning to understand the choice Riki had made?
Fool.
"Guy?"
Guy schooled his features, trying to mirror Raoul's own dispassionate expression. "Yeah?"
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Tired."
Iason loved Riki. It was all the difference in the world between those two and himself and Raoul. Raoul owned him and was using him, that was it. And if the Blondie was a little nicer, a little kinder, it was probably only because he discovered it was easier to manage Guy that way.
Fool, fool, fool. Even knowing that, here Guy was, lapping it up, reaching eagerly for the kind word, the approving glance, like he was some kind of lap dog, some kind of – of pet.
The shelter they'd chosen was near the shore. It was a house, a big one, perhaps the dwelling of some long-ago executive colonist who'd built it here for the view. The clouds had moved out, leaving the night clear and moonlit. Guy could see islands from the balcony that ran along the seaward side of the building. Out there, Raoul told him, was what remained of the old terraforming equipment that had been used by their ancestors to turn Amoi from a ball of ice and rock into a habitable world.
There were only a few rations left. Raoul divided them evenly, something that surprised Guy, who took his share with murmured thanks and ate, watching the Blondie from under his eyelashes. This whole adventure was coming to a close, he could feel it. It startled him to realize that he didn't want it to end. Guy wasn't sure what it was, but he knew that if they never went back, if they stayed out here forever and carved a place for themselves in this dangerous wilderness, it would be all right with him. Fantasy, of course. He had no idea what awaited him. He had been offered no promise of reward, given no choice in his service.
"What are you thinking?" Raoul asked.
The question startled Guy, who looked back at him, half-eaten wafer partway to his lips. "Nothing," he muttered and popped it into his mouth. Raoul continued to watch him with that unnerving, unwavering regard. "What?" Guy asked finally, rattled.
"Are you still in love with Riki?"
"Riki loves Iason." Oddly, it didn't hurt nearly as much now to say it. "If we find them, I won't cause any trouble."
"That's not what I asked."
Guy swallowed the last of the wafer. "No," he whispered. He raised his eyes and met Raoul's. The Blondie looked as if he might say something, then thought better of it. His blue eyes were pensive. Without another word, Raoul got up and walked out onto the balcony. Guy watched him go.
Damn it, but Raoul was fine. The Blondie stood at the crumbling balustrade, tall and elegant even in his dirty, travel-worn garb. The wind caught his dyed hair, sending it streaming out behind him. Suddenly, he drew his arms close to his body, hugging himself, shoulders bunched as if consumed by unpleasant thoughts. Guy got up and walked out to join him. Without a word, the young mongrel put his arms around the Blondie's waist and lay his head against that broad back.
Raoul stiffened and Guy, coming to his senses, quickly released him, backing away, heart pounding. The Blondie turned swiftly and their eyes locked.
"S-sorry," whispered Guy. What was he thinking? Taking a deep breath, he smiled crookedly and shrugged. Turning around, he went back inside.
Raoul followed him. "Why did you do that?" he asked. He sounded angry.
Guy shrugged, pretending indifference. "I felt like it. I said I was sorry. It won't happen again."
"You're a mongrel!" Raoul was angry. Oh, hell.
"I know!" he fired back. His hands were clenched at his sides. He started to sit down, but Raoul seized his arm and held him still. Guy closed his eyes, lips pressed tight together, expecting Raoul to remind him of his place with a blow or a harsh word.
But neither came. Instead, Raoul pulled him close and held him. The hand that lifted his face was gentle. So were the lips that covered his, the fingertips that brushed his cheek. Guy reached his arms around Raoul's neck and pressed his body eagerly against the Blondie's. He could feel Raoul's response in the hard bulge that pushed against Guy's groin.
Tomorrow they would find Iason and call in Jupiter. They would return to Midas and whichever future Raoul chose for him. But now...oh, god, now he would have this moment of heaven.
Reaching up, he seized Raoul's face and pulled it down to his, kissing him with all the passion and desperation that stormed through his soul. Raoul responded, wrapping Guy tighter in his arms, holding him as if he was the most precious thing in the universe. They sank to the floor, aware of nothing but their own desire. Raoul's hands worked feverishly at Guy's clothing, stripping the mongrel naked. Guy returned the favor, whispering an awed curse at the sight of that magnificent body gleaming in the pale moonlight. Raoul was smiling, really smiling, planting small kisses on Guy's lips, his cheeks, his eyes.
"You are so beautiful," said the Blondie, brushing dark hair from Guy's face. "I cannot get enough of you."
Guy tried to speak, but couldn't, for Raoul lowered his head then and his mouth traced a path of fire along Guy's jaw. The young mongrel knew only that he wanted to drown in Raoul, wanted to be engulfed by the Blondie's strength and beauty. Raoul laid him out on the floor and settled onto him.
Guy put his arms around the man, sliding his hands up and down the muscular back, stroking them over the hard curve of Raoul's buttocks. Raoul's tongue teased at the hollow of Guy's throat, then moved down to whisper over the swell of his chest. Guy whimpered when those lips nuzzled against a nipple, teasing at the ring there, sending shivers of heat straight to his groin.
"What do you want?" came the soft words in his ear. It was a question he'd asked before.
"You," Guy replied without hesitation now. "Please, Raoul!"
There was a deep, breathless laugh and Raoul rose to his hands and knees. He turned Guy over and smoothed his large hands down the younger man's back, kneading Guy's ass and pulling the cheeks apart. Guy gasped in astonishment, feeling Raoul's hair sweep over his tingling flesh, feeling the Blondie's tongue stroking up the crack. It was a shockingly intimate act and so exquisitely erotic that Guy moaned, grinding his aching cock against the floor. Raoul's tongue circled his hole, then pushed inside and Guy's moans turned to sobs. The tongue was replaced by a slick finger, then another. Prodded, stretched, tormented, Guy trembled, beyond speech.
Finally, Raoul lifted him and turned him back around and sitting him up. The Blondie was on his knees, eyes heavy-lidded and slumbrous as they rested on his pet's flushed face. Guy reached for him, tangling unsteady hands in the other man's long hair and seeking Raoul's mouth again. Raoul's hands, so strong, lifted Guy effortlessly. There was a nudging at Guy's asshole and the mongrel cried out as, in one smooth movement, he was impaled on the Blondie's huge, rigid cock.
His cry was lost in Raoul's mouth. No longer in control of his own actions, Guy moved at Raoul's tacit commands, lifting himself on his knees, feeling that heavy organ inside him slide up and down. Fingers wrapped around Guy's erection, Raoul's thumb slicked the pearly fluid leaking from the slit, eliciting shudder after shudder.
Now the Blondie's hips were moving, thrusting upward with increasingly powerful strokes. Guy gripped Raoul's shoulders, rocked by the force of them. He'd never felt like this, never! Not even with Riki had he been so thoroughly and completely undone. Battered by waves of pleasure, pushed ever higher, he couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do a thing except ride the tide of ecstasy that hurled him relentlessly forward. Then Raoul's hand tightened with convulsive strength. Guy screamed, body bowing, a thousand suns exploding behind his eyes. There was answering shout, hoarse and filled with astonishment. He felt Raoul make one final, powerful surge into him and hold. For a long, blissful moment, nothing made sense.
Through the roaring in his ears Guy heard Raoul whisper his name. It sounded like a benediction. They collapsed together on the dusty floor and lay in a tangle of limbs, sweaty and breathless. Raoul was the first to move, pulling carefully out of his pet and rolling over to hug Guy against him. In silence, they lay, Guy's head resting on Raoul's chest, Raoul's unsteady hand stroking his hair.
After what seemed an eternity, the world intruded. Once again, Guy felt the night air move over his skin, smelled the musk of sex and heard Raoul's heartbeat gradually slowing under his ear.
"What's that?" whispered Raoul, sitting up, pulling Guy close. Then Guy heard it, too, a low, almost subliminal hum. It grew nearer and louder.
Suddenly it was overhead and the building shook. The roar of it filled Guy's head, forced the normal rhythm of his heart into that heavy, thudding cadence. Dust and fragments of concrete sifted down from the ceiling. Raoul tightened his embrace, pushing Guy down, shielding the mongrel with his body.
Then the thunder began to fade. Whatever it was, it was moving south. The building stilled and quiet returned. Dust hung in the air. Raoul released Guy, jumping up and running naked out onto the balcony. Guy was scarcely slower.
"What was it?" he cried, seeing nothing but night sky and moonlight. "Tanagura? A patrol ship?"
"No," said Raoul, expression troubled. "I don't think so. It was too big. I've never heard an engine that sounded quite like that before."
They stood together, looking up and down the coast and out to sea, but the silence stretched on and nothing moved. Finally, Raoul took out the locator. He stared at it for a long moment, then pressed something on it.
"What did you do?" Guy asked.
"Called Jupiter." Then, taking Guy's hand, they went back inside.
Iason was Death, a golden maelstrom of violence and rage, more terrifying for the coldness in that beautiful face and the controlled, deliberate bursts of laser fire that mowed down Olympus' soldiers like grain as the two of them fled the hidden complex. Riki watched the men and women he'd eaten with, talked to, played cards with, fall in a welter of blood, their mouths Os of shock as they went down. Part of him regretted it; they'd had no ill-will towards him, after all. But mostly he simply ran with Iason and fired at those who came behind.
They stumbled up out of the bunker into the vast ruins of the Wasteland. The sea lay before them, the remnants of ancient piers stretching out into a broad bay. An opal line on the horizon revealed the coming dawn. There was a stitch in Riki's side and sweat ran into his eyes. His heart banged from terror and exertion. But Iason was there, holding onto him when he stumbled, firing once more at the sentinel who jumped out from between two ruined buildings in front of them, and reducing the man to a welter of blood and bone.
It was a while before Iason slowed and stopped running. He ducked through the open doorway of a roofless building, pulling Riki with him. Then, finally, he let the mongrel go and dropped to his haunches, head falling forward, sides heaving. His hair hung, damp with sweat, hiding his face. Riki's legs gave out and he collapsed beside the Blondie. They were free! But for how long?
Even as he thought it, he heard shouting and engines. Iason lifted his head, face drawn. "We can't stop," he said hoarsely. "Can you go on?"
"Don't be insulting," gasped Riki.
Iason smiled, kissed him, and they kept going.