No Enemy But Time (A Brandywine Investigations Universe Story) (2 page)

Michael's sudden aggression excited the hell out of him, sure. His hard cock bumped the counter, defying him to say otherwise. But there was that strange shadow feeling again clouding his arousal. Something was off. Zack had no direction for the feeling, no trail, so it most likely had nothing to do with Michael.

Still.

"You think I'm imagining things, don't you, Kingsley?" The red and black glass ladybug, Michael insisted it had to be male, had no answer for him. "Smoke and shadows. I should call Dad tonight, though. Just in case."

His odd misgivings dissipated when he returned to the bedroom, mist shadows banished by a break in the clouds. Michael lounged naked on the covers, the early afternoon sun burnishing his perfect skin to rose gold and setting sparks in his hair. A plain black box sat in front of him, long and slender, piquing Zack's curiosity.

"Whatcha got there, gorgeous?"

Michael shook his head with an impish smile. "Oh, no. You don't get to see until you're secure."

"Ah. How secure?" A niggle of anxiety lodged in Zack's stomach. Michael did like to push sometimes.

"I need you still for this."

"Not like I'm three. I can stay still."

Michael let out a helpless bark of laughter. "No, you can't. You're worse than a three-year-old. Can you promise not to twitch too much if we do hands only?"

"Can't make promises without knowing what the surprise is." He climbed up on the bed to run a hand down Michael's hip. There was no established top in their relationship, not in bed. Made things a hell of a lot more interesting, but he struggled with certain things still, even for Michael. Negotiations were still part of the bargain. "Hands only. And if I can't…"

"You'll tell me." Michael rose up on his elbow to press his lips against Zack's ear, his whisper full of sin and promise. "You'll enjoy this."

Zack laughed, dismissing his nerves, his nightmares, his instincts.
It's Michael. You couldn't be safer, you idiot.
He spread his arms wide, grinning down at his former guardian. "I'm all yours."

"Oh, yes." Michael rose up on his knees, pressing Zack back to lean against the headboard. "Yes, you are. Hand, please."

At least this was familiar. They'd realized early on in their bed sport that if Zack was going to be able to tolerate restraints, he couldn't be flat on his back. Michael licked the inside of his right wrist, the wet trail sending lightning jolts through Zack's groin. Willing himself to relax, he allowed Michael to lift the hand and use a red bandana to tie it to one of the top spindles of the headboard. The left hand received the same treatment, his arms spread at shoulder height, secure, but not stretched uncomfortably.

Michael kissed the tip of his nose, the gentle gesture settling some of the ache in Zack's stomach. "Okay?"

"Yeah." He was. Staring into those bright blue eyes, he smiled, trust washing through him like a sudden spring rain in a parched gully. He loved this man, this former angel, more than the hunt, more than the forests of Arcadia, more than sometimes he thought his heart could bear. "So whatcha got in the box?"

"Something that came in the mail yesterday." One of Michael's golden brows quirked up as he picked up the box and opened the hinged lid. He turned it to Zack, revealing a thin ten-inch-long steel rod that appeared to be constructed of small orbs. His cock practically snapped to attention, the damn thing was so intriguing.

"Is that… a sound?"

"Yes. A bubble sound, the description said. Inventive shape, don't you think?"

They had tried sounds before, smooth ones. "Yeah… bumpity-bump," Zack said on a breathy chuckle. Michael cut off his words with a hard kiss, crushing his mouth down onto Zack's with bruising force, a rumble rising from deep in his chest.

Zack pulled in a sharp breath through his nose, the sound pulling hard on already sensitized nerves. He pulled back from the kiss to whisper, "Are you growling?"

"I… yes, I guess so. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry." Zack nudged his nose under Michael's chin. "Don't be. Sexy as hell. Do it again."

Michael laughed, but the rumbling sound returned as he nuzzled and nipped his way down Zack's throat. Eyes sliding shut, Zack thumped his head back against the headboard when Michael's tongue described a warm, wet path down his treasure trail. A nip at his thigh—damn but Michael's teeth were sharp—and then he cried out as soft lips pushed back his foreskin.

"Tease too long and we won't get too far with this," Zack whispered while Michael lapped at his slit.

His fallen angel had apparently slid past verbal. All he got back was another growl. His hands were still gentle when he grasped the base of Zack's cock to hold it steady and retrieved the well-lubed sound. He raised his eyes, searching Zack's face.

"I'm ready. Go. Please."

Zack shivered as cold metal touched his slit. His stomach muscles clenched in anticipation as the first orb slid inside, the sensation odd and shivery, his cock instantly rock hard.

"Rivers of night… yes…" Zack pulled against his restraints, fighting to keep still as Michael pushed the sound in slowly, one incredible orb at a time, invading his channel, sending waves of shuddering pleasure up his spine.

"More?" Michael's voice was a rasping snarl.

"Yes. Fuck, yes."

 
At five orbs, Michael pulled the sound out by two and then pushed it back in, slowly—always slowly—too slow for Zack, but he clenched his back teeth and managed to hold back the whimper. When the rounded end finally hit his prostate, he hissed in an extremity of pleasure, legs splayed stiff and taut, toes curled.

"Right there?" Michael pulled back and tapped his prostate again.

"Yes! Oh… holy mother of… Michael!" Zack slammed his head back against the headboard several times. "It's too much. Pull it out, pull it out… I'm too close…"

"No."

The single word snapped Zack's eyes open. He found Michael staring at him, a strange, cold hunger in those bright blue eyes. "Michael, please. I have to come. It's not… there's no channel in this one… Michael?"

He swallowed hard as he stared into eyes he had known for decades, suddenly gone flat and alien. His vision must have darkened, because he seemed to imagine a red tinge to them. Now the whimper escaped. "Michael, please. Please, love…"

Michael twitched and blinked, his expression suddenly puzzled. He glanced down at his hand still holding the sound, back up at Zack's face, and he let out a little sound of dismay. With a firm hold on Zack's erection, he pulled the sound out, bump by sensual bump. Zack managed to hold out until the last three orbs before he came, his come chasing the sound up, shooting from him in pent-up geysers as he bellowed in relief and pained pleasure.

"Zack?"

A hand stroked his cheek. Pink clouds floated through his vision. He was lying flat. His hands unbound, his head in Michael's lap.

"Zack, I'm so sorry. I… are you all right?"

"What're you sorry for, sweetheart? That was amazing."

"You asked… I didn't… I don't know what I was thinking."

"Hey." Zack reached up to smooth back a curl of Michael's hair from his cheek, surprised at how his hand shook. "You pulled it in time. That was amazing. Intense."

"Too much?"

"Close. But not quite." He hated how shaken Michael looked, how pale and uncertain. So he'd had a true moment of dominance, so what? He couldn't let Michael dwell on it too much. "It was perfect. You're perfect, snookums."

Michael ducked his head on a snicker. "Babycakes."

"Schmoopykins."

"Kitten pie."

Zack smacked him with a pillow. "Butter butt."

Now Michael was laughing and smacked him back. "My little crinoline."

The pillow smacking turned into wrestling when Zack roared and rolled them both off the bed in a tangle of flailing limbs. In the ensuing tussle and grope session, Zack managed to pin Michael and suck him off with them both still giggling like idiots.

He finally collapsed with his head on Michael's shoulder, both of them panting, sweat and semen drying on their skin.

"I'm all right. You didn't hurt me." Zack almost asked,
but are you sure you're all right?
Michael looked so peaceful and content, though, he didn't want him going back to fretting. "Want to drive down to Rehoboth for dinner?"

"Dogfish Head?"

"Sure, if you want. Good food."

"Good beer. On draught."

"Sold." Zack grinned up at Michael and added, "Schmoopy muffin." He got a pillow in the face for getting the last word.

Chapter Two

The next morning, Zack was relieved to see Michael more himself, cheerfully slipping out of bed early to make coffee and breakfast, determined to join the bird count even if he wasn't quite awake. He seemed so much better than the previous day, more present and even-tempered as he went out to the garden to say good morning to his tree frog friend and to retrieve their bikes.

Zack put the odd behavior from the day before down to isolation. They hadn't been terribly social over the winter, and Michael loved crowds, loved being around people and talking to new acquaintances. Aggression simply wasn't
Michael
, and the hints and stabs of it had obviously upset him, unbalanced him so badly. Good to see him catch himself.

I have to remember. I can't keep him all to myself. It's not good for him.

Michael chatted happily on the bike ride over and remained serene all day, running temporarily captured birds back to the weighing stations and helping Zack in the water. One of the volunteers had brought a cooler full of sandwiches for lunch, so they were tired but not starving as they biked home together. If Zack hadn't been so focused on getting home for a nap, he might have noticed the abrupt change in Michael's mood.

"Share the shower with me?" Zack offered as he propped the bikes up against the shed.

"You go ahead." Michael was staring toward the back of the garden, his voice flat and odd. "I need to check on something."

Zack blinked, caught off guard by the chill tone, but he shrugged and went to wash off the sand and salt in the outside shower. He had just rinsed the sand from his hair when a shriek set his heart pounding.

"Michael!" He flung the wooden shower door open, and raced into the garden without stopping for a towel, just in time to see Michael hurl a rock at a lesser blue heron standing at the edge of the wildflower bed. "Michael, what the hell are you doing?"

Face a mask of rage, Michael leaned down to pick up another stone since the first had only clipped tail feathers.

"Michael!" Zack lunged and tackled him before he could hurl his second missile. "What the fuck's wrong with you?"

For a moment, Michael struggled wildly, squirming and kicking underneath Zack. He risked a quick glance at the heron, in case it was something other than a heron, maybe a shapeshifter or a demon of some sort. No. Just a plain little heron.
With frog legs dangling from her beak. Aw, damn.

"She killed him!" Michael roared, his angel's voice pitched to shatter granite. He flipped under Zack and renewed his struggles.

"Shh, shh, I see it. She ate your friend." Zack finally got hold of both of Michael's wrists and pinned him flat. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But she's just doing what she was designed to do. Mama heron has to eat."

Still trying to buck Zack off, Michael let out a frustrated sound full of hurt and betrayal. "You said he was rare!"

"Rare for here. Michael, stop. Damn it, you know how it works, that nature isn't all Disney butterflies and fucking rainbows."

"She ate my friend. She has to pay." At least Michael's voice had softened to a growl.

"You don't need me to tell you it wasn't personal. You're not a kid. But you're acting out of anger and cruelty. Michael, look at me. This isn't like you."

Michael turned his head to glare at Zack, an odd red tinge veining through the blue of his eyes. "Get off!"

"No. Not until you calm the fuck down."

Another enraged bellow, another desperate struggle, and this time Zack barely hung on. He was damn tired already. Finally, Michael collapsed against the abused grass, shoulders shaking.

"C'mere." Zack relented and sat back, not caring one rat's ass if the neighbors saw him sitting buck naked in the yard. He pulled Michael up and held him tight, letting him sob. "I understand being angry. Just not… the best way to deal with it, right?"

Michael's answer was incoherent mumbling against Zack's shoulder. At least he had dropped the rock.

"Worried about you, you know? Something hasn't been right the past couple days. Anything you need to tell me?"

Michael shrugged, arms going around Zack's neck. "I feel… odd sometimes. These chills and weird spots."

Yeah, me too. Wish I knew why.
"Could you be sick? Are there, I dunno, angel viruses?"

A muffled, hiccoughing chuckle came from Michael. "I've been asking myself the same thing."

"Okay. Great. That's just great. How about you take it easy today and let me fuss over you? I'll call my cousins and see if they know."

"Not Apollo. Please."

Zack rolled his eyes. "Never. Stuck up, self-righteous twit. Hermes might have a clue. He knows weird shit."

"Zack?"

"Hmm?" Zack moved his arms gently to help Michael up.

"You do know you're naked?"

"Yeah, I figured giving Mrs. Pendleton a free show wouldn't be a bad thing. I don't think she has much fun anymore."

Michael managed a snort, though he shivered in Zack's arms. "She can download porn like everyone else, then."

* * * * *

It wasn't a bad afternoon, as afternoons stuck in bed went. Zack fussed, maybe a little too much, trying to coax Michael into eating and then napping. The strange fit of anger had made him nauseous, though, and edgy. Dark red, arterial blood-red anger, it had descended over his vision like a noxious oil slick, thick and slippery, making his thoughts hard to chase and harder to pin down.

He had acted without reason, without compassion, with… hate. Some of his fallen brethren spent their lives consumed with it. How did they live inside those choking, vile confines? Some part of him knew his reaction had been horrible, while a whispering, insidious voice at the back of his mind reminded him of the power coursing through him, the dark, inhibited strength. Michael shivered and burrowed deeper under the blankets, concentrating on Zack whistling in the kitchen.