Chapter Twenty-six

The walls seemed to close in the longer Farren and Morrisey remained seated at the tiny table in Farren’s office, their laptops sharing space with empty MM packs, two cups of cold coffee, and a bottle of water. They’d chased down leads all day, cross-referencing their cases and trying to home in on their mastermind.

Farren rubbed his tired eyes, checking the laptop clock. Five p.m. One incredibly long day. Morrisey reclined on his c, stretching his arms over his head, triggering thoughts of his naked body, muscles straining, his breathy little pants, deep moans, and…

Nope. Now wasn’t the time.

The fact that Morrisey was no longer avoiding Farren brightened his day, not to mention the memories they’d made last night. Memories that kept intruding on Farren’s thoughts, derailing his focus on their case.

Enough for now. “We’ve been at this all day.” Farren’s stomach rumbled. “What do you say to taking a break, then spending the evening with me eating dinner and watching old movies?” A repeat of last night wouldn’t be amiss. But should Farren dare to hope? After all, Morrisey had all day to regret their actions, though he’d not said anything yet.

It seemed like communication wouldn’t be the strong point of this relationship.

Morrisey gave a tired smile. “Sure, sounds good.”

Yes!Farren barely reined in a fist pump. Even though they’d spent the day together, he wasn’t ready to let go yet. He’d somehow formed an addiction to Morrisey’s company.

What did it say about Farren that he’d somehow latched on to the most irritable, grouchy human he’d ever met and couldn’t get enough? Even now, he felt the bond growing, stretching, testing bounds like a living thing in his brain.

They packed up their laptops and parted ways, Farren dashing to his apartment. Few people came here. Mostly Arianna. Agent Sykes came over occasionally, but as a fellow traveler, he limited contact with Farren to maintain secrecy and prevent the humans from growing suspicious.

Farren roamed his apartment to check he’d not left dirty dishes on the counter or a sock lying around. Not that he’d ever done so before, but just his luck when he finally invited a man home, he’d have left some tasks undone and given a poor impression.

Having seen few human dwellings, Farren didn’t know how his compared. Would Morrisey find the apartment comfortable? Off-putting? The original version of Farren would’ve called it spartan. Arianna always wanted to add more pillows.

No use fretting now.

Besides, Morrisey’s apartment had an eclectic mix of furniture and repurposed reels Farren supposed once held cable, and though the living room appeared relatively clean, everything had a worn and well-used feel. A place to live rather than a place to impress others.

So unlike Farren’s.

Farren showered, dressed, and changed the bedsheets, telling himself it needed doing and not that he held out hopes to end the evening there—and not alone. He pulled a previously frozen pizza from the oven.

He put bowls of popcorn and MMs on the coffee table, paced, and then strapped himself into his webbed bed to meditate.

Morrisey knocked on the door promptly at seven. Farren glanced around his apartment. Nothing out of order. Of course, from what he’d seen of Morrisey’s organizational skills, the man likely didn’t expect an unlived-in museum—how Arianna described Farren’s home.

Farren eyed himself critically in a wall mirror and opened the door.

Morrisey stood there dressed casually, possibly in the jeans and T-shirt he’d worn to work earlier, but then again, judging from the clean scent and damp , he’d taken time for a shower too.

He’d not shaved, though. Good. Farren liked the scruff.

Damn, but Morrisey looked and smelled incredible. Never before had he worn cologne, at least not to Farren’s knowledge. He’d even combed his . An attempt to impress?

If so, it worked. Morrisey didn’t strike Farren as the type to style his for just anyone.

“Come in.” Farren swung the door wide, discreetly checking out Morrisey’s ass as he walked through the door. Yep. Worth writing sonnets about.

Morrisey handed Farren a bottle of .

Wow. A rather fine Moscato. “How did you know?”

“Well, given your sophistication and refinement…” Morrisey kept a straight face for a few seconds, then guffawed, an honest sound that did warm things to Farren’s insides. “I asked Arianna. She told me the rules only prohibited liquor, not wine or beer.”

Which meant Arianna planned to make a claim if Farren didn’t drink the stuff. Morrisey carried a six-pack of beer in his other hand. Ah, not a wine drinker. Farren took the beer. “Make yourself at home. I’ll put these in the refrigerator.”

Morrisey pulled a device from his pocket and gave the room a critical eye. For the first time, Farren felt the heat of embarrassment at his impersonal abode. He’d always found the lack of personal effects practical before. Now it just seemed cold and uninviting.

“What are you doing?”

“Sweeping for surveillance equipment. Call me old-fashioned, but our business ain’t nobody’s but ours.” Morrisey stood firmly at the center of the living area, studying the combination of living/dining room and kitchen. “Not one for personal touches?” He returned the bug detector to his pocket.

Farren set the drinks on the counter and gave the same lame excuse he gave any human who’d been in his rooms. “Like pictures and things? No. Most travelers have incredible memories. We keep them here.” He tapped his temple, then uncorked the wine, poured a glass, and placed the rest in the refrigerator.

He returned to the living area, his wine gripped tightly in one hand and a beer bottle in the other. He sank down onto the couch, putting the drinks on the coffee table beside a bowl of popcorn, a plateful of pizza, and a dish of chocolates. While he worried about how Morrisey might like his home, he couldn’t help but remember the cable reel parked in front of Morrisey’s couch.

Morrisey raised a brow.

A flash of heat rose in Farren’s cheeks. “The original Farren liked popcorn and MM’s whenever he went to the movies as a child before he saw both as carb or calorie-laden enemies. I find the combination agreeable, too.” Agreeable? The ghost of the former Farren scoffed. Who talks like that?

Morrisey perched on the couch, not too close, but not too far either. Just ambiguous enough to make a mystery of how this night might end.

Until this past week, Farren had considered nothing else but friendship as an option. Were Morrisey”s efforts a subtle invitation for a replay of the previous evening? More than once Morrisey had studied Farren when he thought no one was looking.

Farren mechanically went about the process of selecting the movie on the remote. “I thought you might be interested in seeing Men in Black since you haven”t, and Leary and I referenced it.”

The opening scenes came on.

“Works for me.” Morrisey settled back with his beer and a slice of pizza, intent on the large screen TV Arianna insisted on. Manspreading put his knee inches from Farren’s. “Is that some kind of sex swing or hammock over there in the corner?” he asked between bites of pizza.

Sex swing? Farren had meant to take the webbing down. No use trying to hide now. “It’s a bed.”

“A… bed.” Morrisey studied the contraption briefly, tilting his head sideways like some humans and many dogs did when confused. “Are you sure? Looks like a macrame project gone wild.”

Farren choked on a laugh while making a mental note to research macrame. “Quite sure. I slept suspended in my native form. Although my human body isn”t tolerant, I take comfort occasionally from the familiar position.” Like this afternoon, when he’d fretted over the evening. They”d been by themselves together frequently in the office, but having Morrisey in his rooms seemed so intimate.

“How did your partner sleep with you? How’d you manage sex?”

“We normally slept separately, and sex didn’t occur in beds.” Farren joined Morrisey in scrutinizing the non-human bed. “For obvious reasons.” How much hotter could Farren’s cheeks get without bursting into flames?

“I see. And how—”

“I’m not going to talk about the differences between human sex and traveler sex.” Not now, at any rate, when doing so might reveal more of Farren’s possibly inappropriate attraction. His heart couldn’t take talk of sex with Morrisey present. Like whenever someone at work went on a diet and complained about doughnuts left in the breakroom.

Morrisey held his hands in a defensive stance. “I was just gonna ask how you adjusted to sleeping horizontally.”

“Oh. I”m still adjusting to it, even after a decade.” Snuggling in covers was nice, but would be nicer with another warm body. Humans seemed to enjoy sleeping with another. So strange. Even stranger, they sometimes referred to sex as ”sleeping together,” whether or not actual sleeping was involved.

Morrisey muted the TV. Farren hadn’t even realized they hadn’t been paying attention to the movie. “Do you often miss your old home?” He gestured toward the hanging bed.

Farren swallowed down a world of hurt. “Yes.” He and Kele had worked hard to create their dwelling and had even begun enlarging it for possible spawn one day if they bonded. No. Farren slammed the door on memories too painful to relive. “But my life is here now.”

“Mind if I ask how your human body differs from your old one?”

Curiosity without ridicule. “You know, many people ask for a demonstration. Like a magic trick.”

Morrisey attempted to hide a blush by turning up his beer bottle. He swallowed, regarding Farren with a thoughtful expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Morrisey? Not meaning to be rude? Or even more shocking, blushing? Farren exhaled deeply. “Sorry. I’m afraid I’m sensitive.”

“Some travelers look like animals,” Morrisey said, “while some appear like one face over another. Paramedics and nurses appear blue. Arianna looks fairly human, but with eyes like a goat. I was just curious about how you really looked.”

Oh. Those odd impressions of Morrisey’s. A matter to which Farren had given some thought. ”I don”t know for certain, but I have a theory about that.”

“What theory?”

“Your human mind isn”t designed to see us in our true forms, so it attempts to construct a visual representation. How you see Arianna is your mind telling you ‘other’ or ‘unfamiliar.’ The two faces indicate two entities. Actually, it’s not faces you see, but auras. You see occisors as beasts because your mind tells you they’re remorseless killers. In one way, you probably see the danger better than I do. Also, blue is a healing color, so you subconsciously associate blue with healers.”

“Do different travelers have different abilities?”

“Do all humans play violin? Can they all sing like songbirds?”

Morrisey’s face colored again. “I get your point.”

“We also have a hereditary tier system.”

“How does that work? Isn’t it awful not to have control over what you do in life?”

“It’s not a lack of control. I’m Magestra.” Farren was extremely proud of his heritage. “Lots of occupations fall under the heading of law enforcement. Being born into the Magestra class just means I have abilities useful to such a calling. Princeps are our rulers. Again, so many avenues one could take, because we can’t all sit on the council. Some become local officials, born to lead, but on a smaller scale.”

”What happens if someone from the working classes wants more?”

Farren scrunched his nose. Why would anyone want to be something other than what they were? “A few have succeeded, but you must understand. We were born to certain callings. Few of us want to go against our upbringing. Some who do turn criminal. The tiers keep us in check.”

“Keep you under thumb, you mean,” Morrisey groused. “How did you stand it?”

Farren fought back offense. “What was to stand? I loved my job, a job I had in common with my… parents.” From earliest memories, all he’d wanted was to follow his ancestors’ example. Any spawn he and Kele managed would have been tested to place them in the suitable class, as Kele and Farren’s classes didn’t match, but were acceptable enough to be embraced in society.

Morrisey pulled the beer bottle from his lips. “I caught your hesitation. What did you intend to say?”

How could Farren explain? “Parents aren’t the same there as here. We travelers refer to ourselves as male and female in Terra, but those traits come from the physical forms we possess. Gender doesn’t exist as you know it in Domus.”

Morrisey straightened, shoulders back. “Having no gender certainly wasn’t mentioned in the information Leary gave me. Without gender, who are you attracted to?” Farren heard the unvoiced, Are you attracted to me?

”Because the initial Farren liked men, so do I, but it”s more profound for most travelers. We never simply shared our bodies. We shared everything we were.” An experience Farren feared he’d never have again. “Some of us bonded, combining our energies.”

A niggling of doubt entered his mind. The one time he’d attempted a temporary sharing of Morrisey’s mind, his spirit had begun the bonding process. Normally, a full bond took several months. Theirs grew almost by the minute.

Morrisey didn”t appear to take notice of Farren”s sudden quiet. “Like you bonded to your partner?”

“No. Kele and I never took that step. I think instinct held both of us back. Some small inkling of all not being as it should’ve been. Besides, bonds are like separate entities. If they don’t want to form, they won’t.” If they do, they’re insistent. Farren stared down at the fingers tangled together in his lap. Kele suggested their bonding several times, but the timing never seemed right. Now Farren had lost his chance forever. If they’d bonded, would he have ceased to exist when Kele disappeared? Who knew what really happened once someone left the plane of the living? Could they have been together forever, like some stories told?

After several moments, Morrisey turned away. “I’m sorry you lost your partner.”

Hadn’t Morrisey been through the same? Here, Farren focused only on his own loss. “And I’m sorry you lost yours. Both of them.”

Morrisey pursed his lips. “Yeah, me too.”

In a sudden flicker of clarity, Farren saw Morrisey as he might have been as a traveler from Domus. He’d not be working class. Oh, no. He’d be Magestra, or dare Farren think, Princeps.

The vision flicked and vanished, like catching a glimpse from the corner of his eye. The pull intensified, greater than anything Farren ever felt, a soul-deep longing emanating from his true self and not his borrowed form.

In his previous realm, Farren would approach. If the object of his desire felt the same, they’d know and could act on their feelings. Likely the reason he hadn’t bonded with Kele. They’d never experienced a wonderful, I-knew-from-the-moment-we-met magnetism.

Like Morrisey inspired.

Absurd! Morrisey wasn’t from Domus. Wasn’t a traveler. How could Farren possibly feel this way about someone not of his species? This wasn”t the physical, fleeting human draw he”d grown used to for the last decade, an urge his host knew well.

No, this was something that shouldn”t exist in this reality. It scared the hell out of Farren.

Morrisey met Farren’s too-intent gaze, raising a brow. “What?”

“What?” Farren recovered from his tumultuous thoughts. “Sorry. I spaced out there for a moment. Where were we?”

Morrisey lifted his beer bottle in a toast. “To lost loves.”

Farren mimicked the gesture with his wineglass, as ingrained memories said he should, mentally adding, And newfound ones.

Morrisey placed his beer on the coffee table and gently held Farren”s face. “You have about two seconds to tell me to stop.”

Farren gulped, struggling to force words out. “Then what?”

“Then this.” Morrisey pressed his chapped lips to Farren’s. Morrisey tasted of beer, sorrow, and home.

Farren opened to him, welcoming the gesture. Flutters began in his stomach and deep in his groin. His cock stiffened.

Morrisey pulled back to speak, remaining close enough for his lips to brush Farren’s. ”I gather you don”t object.”

Farren wove his fingers through the fine strands of Morrisey’s , holding him in place while continuing what Morrisey started. Morrisey parted his lips with a gasp, allowing Farren to take full advantage, caressing Morrisey’s tongue with his own.

There were so many reasons Farren should back away. None of those reasons outflanked the longing.

Morrisey enveloped Farren in a tight embrace, and damn if that didn”t feel like the most perfect thing ever, even though the equivalent didn”t exist in Domus.

For so long, Farren hung in limbo, trying to always do the right thing, not cast suspicions on his kind, show travelers the good in humans, and show the same to humans about travelers. He’d seen to his body’s needs at someone else’s place or in back alleys or dark corners of clubs. Once in a Toyota”s backseat behind a convenience store.

He’d never brought lovers to his rooms, only partly because of the security clearance required to access the sublevels of the building.

None of that mattered as he untangled himself, took Morrisey’s hand, and led him into the bedroom, heart pounding with every footfall. Farren kissed Morrisey once again before stepping away and unbuttoning his shirt, button by button, sliding the soft fabric off with a shrug. He steadied his shaking hands enough to slowly, slowly unzip his pants while toeing off his loafers. How he wanted to rip off his clothes and drop to his knees before Morrisey. Better to avoid misunderstandings. Too many who knew of his secret nature forgot, seeing him as a normal human.

They later averted their eyes at his approach.

Farren wasn’t a normal human. The last thing he wanted was to feel Morrisey’s hands on his skin, kiss the mouth he’d hungered for, then later have Morrisey turn away, unable to deal with Farren’s otherness.

Reject him, or worse—hate him.

The pants joined the shirt on the floor. Farren stepped free of the jockstrap porn told him was sexier than boxers or briefs.

Morrisey whistled his appreciation. “Nice.”

Farren stood before Morrisey, cock hard and thrusting against his belly. Unable to resist, he gave his straining length a few quick strokes. Oh! He’d never tire of how fabulous the right contact on an erection felt.

“You’re killing me here!” Morrisey palmed his own cock through his blue jeans. Without any prompting, he pulled his T-shirt up and over his head, kicked off his shoes, then shucked off his jeans in a practiced move. He stepped from the puddled denim, wearing nothing underneath.

How beautiful. Tall, lean, and though not heavily muscled, each one stood out in stark definition. Dark covered Morrisey’s chest, arms, and down his belly, then on to his groin and lower legs. His cock wasn’t as fat as Farren’s, but longer.

Farren’s mouth watered with his need to drop to his knees and taste the drop of fluid leaking from Morrisey’s cock. His fingers itched to touch.

Morrisey reached for him.

“No. I have to show you something first.” Farren never before revealed himself so fully to another. He didn’t do vulnerable. Still, if he wanted his partner”s trust... He reached out his hand, stepping in front of a full-length mirror. “Come here. Stand behind me.”

Morrisey leered. “Oh, great idea.” He must have seen the serious look on Farren’s face, for he did as told, wrapping his sturdy arms around Farren.

Those arms felt like what humans called heaven: warm and secure without confining. Unthinking, Farren leaned back into the embrace. He had longed for this moment, to touch and be touched, skin to skin. He didn”t rely on humans for sustenance, but he had definitely yearned for physical touch.

No moment to get lost in sensation now. Not with a point to make. “Don’t distract me.”Distract me! I want to stay in your arms forever.

Farren had never actually taken anyone to bed he’d consider a lover. Before doing so, any potential lover needed to know the truth. “I have to concentrate.” Gaze riveted to the reflection of himself and Morrisey, Farren took in the differences. His own skin was light, as opposed to Morrisey’s darker complexion. Farren had been told he had a runner’s build, a physique he’d worked on, overcoming years of drug use and malnutrition from his host.

He willed away the thought of how good they looked together, focusing instead on manipulating the image. How he’d done so before, he’d likely never know, and he’d scared the crap out of himself the first time he’d unexpectantly looked in a mirror to see a ghost of himself.

He met Morrisey’s penetrating stare in the mirror, took a step away, and willed the image into his normal form, a human-shaped body, shining with light. Not exactly how he appeared in his home realm, but close enough. “It’s just an illusion, but I hope you get the idea.” Farren never was good at getting his appearance precisely as before—maybe he’d forgotten nuances of his original face over time—but if Morrisey saw Farren’s face along with Farren’s host’s, he’d know.

Farren spread what the human race called wings.

Morrisey gazed at the mirror, his neutral expression giving away nothing.

Was he shocked? Appalled? He wasn’t running—yet.

Morrisey tilted his head, putting his mouth near enough to brush his warm breath across Farren’s neck, followed by a soft graze of his lips. ”When I first laid eyes on you, I thought you were an angel. The more I learn about you, the more convinced I am that you are. You”re beautiful, regardless of the form you take.” He spun Farren by the shoulders, bringing their mouths together for a brief connection. “What was your name in the other realm? I think you might’ve told me before.”

Farren hadn’t said his true name much over the last ten years. “Aluxi.”

“That’s beautiful too.”

Mirror illusion forgotten, Farren twined his arms around Morrisey’s neck, pulling him closer. The hardness pressed against Farren’s abdomen spoke of Morrisey’s want.

Want reflected in Farren’s need. So, Morrisey wasn’t someone who thought of a human with a traveler as a “corpse fucker.”

Morrisey skated his lips from Farren’s jaw to neck to chest, stooping before dropping to his knees. He gazed at Farren through dark lashes, desire reflecting in his eyes.

He grinned and licked a swath up the underside of Farren’s cock with a flattened tongue.

“Oh, damn!” Farren pressed his back against the mirror, clutching Morrisey’s shoulders to avoid tipping over. How good! Warm. Wet. Every pull of Morrisey’s mouth sent jolts of electricity through Farren’s groin and shivers over his skin.

Morrisey released a low moan, clutching Farren”s ass cheeks in big hands, firmly keeping him still.

Not that Farren planned to move except to rock into each stroke.

Morrisey saw him, truly saw him, and didn’t turn away.

Farren reveled in every moan, groan, and touch of Morrisey’s fingers against his skin. Human bodies seemed to have more nerve endings, more sensory input than Farren’s old one. Then, he’d merely merged with his lover, the two truly becoming one.

For a short time unless they bonded.

How strange to continue as two separate entities. Still, the closeness rivaled anything Farren had in the human world. No, not rivaled. Surpassed.

Farren hungered for Morrisey’s touch on his skin, the swipe of a hot tongue on sensitive places, a finger exploring his ass crack. There came a time when things felt so good, too good, leaving Farren hovering on the edge, knowing how much better things would get.

He worked his fingers through Morrisey’s hair in a tight grip, earning an impatient whine. Oh, someone liked. Farren repeated, adding a petting motion.

The tightness started in his groin. He flung his head back, releasing a long, guttural whimper. “So good!” The sounds emerged as clicks and chitters—Farren’s native tongue as spoken from a human throat.

Morrisey redoubled his efforts, apparently unperturbed by the strangeness. So good, so right. Morrisey’s probing finger circled Farren’s hole, pressing in a fraction before sliding in with minimal friction. “Mmmm!” Farren bit his lips closed to keep from crying out.

“No!” Morrisey pulled off to say. “Don’t be quiet. Let me hear what I’m doing to you.”

The back of Farren’s head hit the mirror. The rooms were soundproof, and Sykes checked weekly for hidden cameras and microphones in addition to Morrisey’s check.

“Be vocal, but be careful not to hit your head. Now’s not the time to haul you to the urgent care clinic.”

“Isn’t your mouth supposed to be busy?”

Morrisey chuckled. Answer enough.

Farren released a barrage of sounds, alternating between curses and praise for Morrisey’s blow job talents. Seemed he’d forgotten how to speak human.

But, oh! Farren released a long, desperate moan, clenching and unclenching his fingers in Morrisey’s hair. Finally, he found words. “I… I’m going to cum!”

Morrisey went deeper, taking Farren all the way inside his mouth.

“Morse!” Farren shouted, letting go. Pulse after pulse shot from his cock. His vision whited out around the edges. He sagged against the mirror, the glass cool against his overheated flesh.

Power surged with light in the desperate need to join them as one. The light grew, surrounding two bodies but one mind. In a fevered haze, Farren dropped beside Morrisey, tugging on Morrisey’s cock.

Morrisey groaned again, the sound seeming a million miles away but also in Farren’s head. Damp heat sprayed his fingers as Morrisey shoved into Farren’s hand.

Once more. Twice more.

Morrisey sagged against Farren, sated, pliant, while a warm glow enveloped them.

Farren blinked back tears, sight growing blurry. He’d missed this so much. The connectedness, the oneness, the light.

How long they lingered, he couldn”t tell. A few minutes? A few hours?

Farren regained his senses at Morrisey”s insistent hand on his back urging him toward the bed.

“I guess…” Farren said, anticipating Morrisey’s retreat as he climbed beneath the covers.

Instead, Morrisey lifted the blankets and slid in beside Farren. “Is this okay?”

More than okay. Farren answered by turning on his side and putting his arm over Morrisey’s chest, more peaceful than he’d been in years.

“You called me Morse.”

“I’m sorry, I did—” Had Farren gotten the nickname from Morrisey’s mind?

Morrisey stopped the words with a kiss. “Shhh. I liked it. A lot.”

Trouble was, so did Farren. Maybe a little too much.

“Should I ask you about the white light, or is that just a traveler thing?”

“Remember the third entity I talked about? That’s the bond trying to form between us.”

Morrisey nestled Farren against his chest, the thump, thump, thump of his heart a lullaby. ”What are you trying to say?”

”That we”d forever be linked to each other.” Farren wouldn’t explain right now about being able to understand each other’s thoughts or how the ether on Domus might have created a spawn. “If you were a traveler, I mean. Bonds don’t form between humans and those of my former world.” Or so Farren had believed until recently.

“I don’t know everything about your world or you. I only know when I’m with you, I feel more alive than I have in a long, long time.” Morrisey placed a kiss on Farren’s forehead and drifted off to sleep.