Chapter 20

TWENTY

A full night's sleep wasn't enough to abolish the debt Zed had accumulated over the past two weeks, but it was a start—and he was thankful his body had been exhausted enough to throw him deep under, where dreams couldn't haunt him. It was nice to wake up without the urgent need to be somewhere. No meetings, no hovering at Flick's bedside, nothing. Being stuck out in the black, limping back toward the Jitendra , had its benefits, which included an agenda full of emptiness. No doubt Central and the AEF had questions, but seeing as the Chaos 's long-range communications array was down, it wasn't something to worry about just yet. Zed planned to put those repairs off for as long as possible. And ignore the fact that with a thought, he could contact Central via his cuff.

They could wait. Just like the thoughts of what had happened to the Magdalene and the Church of Omega.

He reached out blindly, hoping to find Flick's warmth beside him—but the bed was as empty as his agenda. He squinted at Flick's abandoned pillow. He hadn't dreamed the part where he and Flick had staggered to their quarters on the Chaos together, right? Tumbled into bed?

Maybe he had. Flick's side of the bunk was cold.

Zed let out a long, drawn-out, loud groan with more than a little frustration in it. Brushing his fingers over the Guardians' cuff, he triggered its comms ability. "Flick," he whined. His voice echoed back at him from the wall unit.

Oops.

Flick's amused snort came across the line loud and clear. "Nice abuse of power."

"I don't know where my wallet is."

"Probably on the floor, in your pants."

"Too far. Why…" Zed trailed off, belatedly realizing that asking why he hadn't woken up next to his lover wasn't necessarily a question suitable for a ship-wide communication. Still—after all the shit they'd been through, would it have been too much for Flick to stick by him until they were both ready to face the day?

"Theo got some intel from Central."

So much for not answering Central's questions. "I thought we weren't going to fix the comms first?"

"Don't worry. He's been exchanging text-based ripmails, and they're taking forever to go back and forth. Your nefarious plans for laziness remain unaffected."

It wasn't so much laziness as a need to forget about the rest of the galaxy for a short time. He wanted to pretend yesterday hadn't happened—or only the good parts had. No being chased by a crazy stin warlord, no explosion, just the miracle of Flick's arm. That wasn't such a bad idea for now, right? He could feel shit churning in his brain, waiting to be acknowledged. Maybe when they got the comms up and running, his first call would be to Dr. McMann.

"So…Theo's with you?

"He's helping with the last of the repairs. My fingers aren't up to anything delicate yet."

"I'm getting up."

"It's fine. You're wiped ? —"

"Give me two minutes."

It ended up being a bit longer, since his bladder did not appreciate being ignored all night. Eventually he made his way into Engineering to discover Flick sitting on a stool and Theo up to his elbows in engine guts. Or something. Flick looked tired but better, less strained. He was carrying his new arm more naturally, too—less like an attachment and more like a limb.

Looking up from whatever Theo was doing with the wires and shit, Flick gave Zed a half smile but didn't move off the stool. "You need another two days of sleep to banish those dark circles, I think."

Zed shrugged. "So what's this intel that couldn't wait?"

Please God, let it not be Central wanting my head on a platter because I accidentally killed people.

Zed felt the lines around his mouth deepen. God, Wystan had begged him to help and he hadn't. The fact that it had been an accident, that he'd done what he'd had to do—just like in the war—didn't offer much comfort. Command school had taught him that you made the best decision you could with the information you had available at the time, and that's what he'd done. Utilizing the resonance's solution hadn't been the right decision, but it had been the only option available. The only even partially viable one.

But he was supposed to rescue civilians. Protect innocent people. Not kill them.

Theo pushed back from the whatever and wiped an arm across his brow. "Scans show traces of tri-hex in the wreckage."

"So the pulse…what? Ignited it?"

"No, Krenikk thinks Grugguk triggered it. Something about choosing to die on his own terms, rather than in defeat, or something. There was a signal in the comm records around the time that you and the resonance did your thing."

Zed concentrated on breathing for a moment. His knees wanted to buckle, but he refused to collapse. It hadn't been the resonance signal that caused the explosion, after all. The guilt he carried wasn't erased by the revelation—he could have done more to save Wystan and his cultists. Something. If he'd been smarter, less tired, more prepared?—

"Have you checked in with the resonance?" Theo asked. "Do they need anything?"

Gleams and her unit were stuck in Cargo One, since the corridors throughout the rest of the ship were too small to accommodate their bulk, but they hadn't complained. About anything.

"I'm sure if they needed anything, they would have told Flick." Though Flick muttered weird every time they communicated with him. Zed drew in a breath, unsurprised it was a bit ragged. "So Grugguk had planned to make a big kamikaze exit."

"Looks like."

"Do we have any proof that he was behind the explosion on the Gorekka ?"

Theo pushed to his feet and rolled his shoulders back and forth. "Yeah. After finding the trigger signal in the comms yesterday, the analysts checked the recorded comms traffic from the day of the Gorekka explosion and hit on a match. Grugguk's ship Hrakkahr sent a similar trigger signal just before the explosion went off. Mil-Int confirmed what Krenikk told us—Grugguk was the warlord in charge of the raid on Vorean during the war. Not only that, but intel says Grugguk was one of the generals who refused to stand down when the Guardians gave the order to end the war. He was court-martialed—or whatever the stin call it—and demoted. Mil-Int's guess is that with the change in date for the stin meeting, Grugguk didn't have everything quite ready—the trigger signal was piggybacked on a random comm message sent to one of the stin working in the shuttle bay."

"So he held on to some of the tri-hex for himself rather than hand it all over to his own military." Flick scoffed. "Typical stin."

"What's the AEF take? How did he know about the meeting? And did he have a specific target or?—"

"Was he targeting you? Maybe. Partially." Theo stepped forward to clap a hand to Zed's shoulder. "I think he was more keen on destroying a symbol of the Guardians rather than you , personally."

"Great. I feel so much better."

"You asked. As for how he knew about the change in meeting time—he was military, stationed at the Hub. Why wouldn't he know?"

"And the cult?"

"It could have been simply opportunity, though they made an excellent side target because of their connection to you, and through you, the Guardians."

Yeah, great. Zed shrugged off Theo's hand and moved back, toward the door. "Okay, if that's it, then, I'll just?—"

Flick stood up. "Wait, can we talk?"

"You're busy and—" Zed waved a hand.

Flick glanced at Theo.

"I think that's my cue." Theo shot Flick a grin and darted past Zed toward the corridor.

Zed watched him go, then turned back to Flick. "What?"

"You've been weird, man. For days."

"It's been…a lot to deal with. Okay?"

"Know what I found in my ripmails?" Flick tilted his head. "A message from Marnie. Worrying about you and shit Elias said. Shit he had no right to say."

Zed gritted his teeth. Since when did Flick check his ripmail? "Look, Flick, just don't?—"

"I'm gonna take it up with him, but there's something else we need to deal with right now. You're jealous. Of Theo."

"You've got a history together?—"

"So?" Flick countered. "We do too."

"Yeah, but he's…" Zed fought to find a good word. A word that would incorporate all his thoughts on the matter. "Normal."

Flick snorted. "What the hell is normal ? He's an ambassador who spends most of his time dealing with aliens." He glared at Zed and lifted his new arm. "And you think this is normal? Goddamn it, Zed. There's no normal out there. I swear."

"He didn't turn your good life into…into this…" Words failed Zed again, wavering and disappearing.

"For fuck's sake. My life before you hired the Chaos wasn't good. It just was . Don't you get it?" He narrowed his eyes at Zed. "Christ. I'm taking you to bed and then we're calling Dr. McMann, because I've had enough of this self-sacrificing martyr bullshit. You need your head shrunk."

Zed watched Flick, shifting uncomfortably, suspecting that he'd been incredibly stupid over the past week or so. His worries and fears had seemed legitimate at the time, but now…now, not so much. He cleared his throat and gestured at Flick's new limb. "So, how's it feel?"

"I don't want to talk about my arm."

Zed blew out a breath. "I was scared."

"And exhausted and distracted and stressed the fuck out. I get it. I do." Flick crept toward him. "But you need to understand that there are three laws of the galaxy that will never change. One, the Guardians are weird. Two, the stin are assholes. And three, I will never stop loving you." He wove the fingers of his organic hand through Zed's—and Zed gasped at the contact.

He could…feel Flick's thoughts. Feelings. They weren't as huge and overwhelming as the resonance's, but there, comfortable, like a soft wool sweater, or Flick's arms around him, holding him. It was…

"Um…" Flick whispered. "Are you feeling that?" He shifted their hands together, using the leverage to pull himself closer to Zed. "Is that because of…of my arm?"

"Reacting with the shard in my neck." Zed closed his eyes, reveling in the sensations. It was one thing to hear alien thoughts, but this—God, it was like coming home. How could he ever have doubted Flick, or himself? This was perfect . True. Real. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"No sorry." Flick's nose nuzzled Zed's. "Just shut up and kiss me."

The kiss wound on and on, timeless, eternal. Never had the brush of Zed's lips, the demands of his tongue, been so necessary . The low note of his groan so vital.

Before he lost his arm, Felix wouldn't have said he was a sensory person. Now? There weren't enough seconds in a minute, minutes in an hour, for all the touching he wanted to do. And while touching things with his new hand thrilled him, a trickle of reminiscence accompanied every caress. He had in fact always been tactile, despite preferring folks kept their distance. Mostly. Sensation formed his compass, whether the hum of the Chaos through his boots, the way small particles of protein bar continued to crunch between his teeth hours after he'd eaten one, or the vibration of a correctly calibrated component.

Zed's skin beneath his fingertips—the prickle of stubble along his jaw, the downy hair at his nape. The shape of his lips. His taste. Right now, Zed was his north and south, east and west. The tang of his sweat, and the way their bodies inclined toward one another when they kissed so they touched all the way down, heedless of whether they were naked or clothed, as if Zed needed to connect as urgently as Felix did.

"Need you," Felix breathed. The hot puff of his breath caressed Zed's ear and trickled back through Felix's fingertips, the new ones, transmuted into warmth and pleasure. Lust thrummed beneath, a rich ribbon of velvet Felix could run between his mental fingers if he so chose. He shivered. "This is going to take some getting used to."

Zed hummed, and the soft sound grew colors and flavors, all underscored by the scent of his soul.

Drawing in a deep breath, Felix stepped back. At half power, the atmosphere of the Chaos was warmer than usual. Still, it seemed a cool breeze wafted between them. Felix quickly interpreted it as the lack of sensation—being disconnected from Zed. The distance separating them measured twenty centimeters at most. It felt like more.

Felix met Zed's gaze and for a long and drawn-out moment, they regarded one another in silence, each measuring the way this new closeness affected the other.

Rather than trust Zed to interpret his thoughts when they next collided—which would be soon—Felix gave them voice. "It's like having my heart pulled out while it's still beating. I can feel your fingers there, poking about."

Zed's almost solemn expression melted into a grin. "I'd have put it less gruesomely, but…yeah. I can feel you under my skin. Even with you standing there."

"Think something at me."

"I'm pretty sure that's not how this works."

"Won't know until you try." Not that Felix wanted Zed to be party to all his thoughts. He loved him wholly and completely, but every man should have his own space somewhere, right? Even if that space was tucked into a dark, dusty corner at the back of his head.

Zed got all constipated-looking and Felix knew exactly what had stormed the forefront of his thoughts. The cultists, he was thinking about those poor bastards who'd gone down with the ship. "You couldn't have saved them," he said softly.

"I…" Zed shook his head. "How did you know?"

Felix closed the space between them, curling his human hand around Zed's nape and drawing their foreheads together. Immediately, Zed's need pulled at him. His love and a hundred other complicated emotions threaded together like colorful twine. Felix ignored it all, acknowledging as he pushed back that they'd have to get used to the distraction if this connection between them lingered.

"I know you, Zed. Don't need to feel your thoughts or whatever is happening here to know that you're still kicking yourself in the ass over just about every wrong step you've ever taken. And I know nothing I say will stop you from doing it."

Zed made a sound of protest.

Felix overrode him. "'S cool. That's you, and before I drag you into our quarters and pull your clothes off, I just want to make one thing clear."

Zed arched a brow, felt against his forehead rather than seen.

Felix let his lips quirk in response. He stared into Zed's too-close and blurry eyes. "This nearly dying shit has got to stop. For both of us. We've been lucky so far. Always seems like there's someone willing to save our asses. But the part I really don't want to repeat is us not knowing this ." Felix closed his eyes and leaned into Zed, the pressure between their foreheads increasing. He let his guard down and shared the absolute depth of his love. The formless beginning, the idea he'd always been in love with Zed, in one way or another. The sure knowledge he'd never love anyone else. Ever.

Zed's gasp tickled his lips. The emotion behind that quick exhale hit him simultaneously. Zed phrased it differently, but the essential meaning remained the same. A devotion so pure, Felix worried it would burn him up from the inside out. When he tried to jerk away, Zed's hand closed about the back of his head—gently, but firmly.

"Stay. Feel the rest of it."

There was more?

God, so much more. Felix didn't know when he'd started moving, but by the time he surfaced from the well of emotion swirling about them, he and Zed were in their quarters, backed halfway toward the bed, half their clothing forming a ragged path behind them. Zed hit the bed and collapsed backward, pulling Felix with him. Felix tried to get a knee planted somewhere other than Zed's groin, and his loosened pants conspired to tip him forward in an uncoordinated sprawl, arms and legs flying out every which way. Something twisted in his middle, reminding him he'd had his guts pieced back together only recently. His left shoulder twanged. Both hurts felt familiar.

"Fuck!"

"What?" Felix tried to roll only to find his legs fused together by the same pants that had tripped him. Reaching down, he tugged at them with his good hand, then remembered he had two functioning hands.

"Your belt buckle caught me in the 'nads."

Wrapped in the wonder of using two perfectly functional hands to push his pants down, Felix didn't answer right away. He thumbed both boot fasteners at the same time, kicked off his boots and pants and flopped sideways onto the bed. Zed lay curled, both hands cupping his precious.

"Want me to kiss it better for you?"

Zed huffed out a laugh. "In a minute, maybe. When I'm sure I'm not going to throw up or die."

Felix stroked Zed's jaw with his new hand. "Baby." He reached down to flick a nipple ring. "Hey, how does this feel? Is it weird when I touch you with this hand?" He'd spent a lot of time exploring the new appendage. The crystalline structure of his arm would never resemble skin, so it made sense that it didn't feel like skin. But it wasn't cold or sharp or necessarily hard, though he had the feeling it could be all of those things if he wanted it to be. Sometimes the tips of his fingers tingled at a thought.

Zed pulled a hand from his groin and smoothed it over the back of Felix's crystal fingers. "It feels like you."

"That's…" Not what he wanted to hear, but it made sense. The arm did feel like him, at least internally. That could be dizzying at times, to look down and see something not flesh and blood, yet innately his .

Zed's thoughts flowed through the connection, along with a twinge of pain from his groin. His dark brows lowered. "You're in pain."

"Huh? You're the one who nearly got castrated."

"No, your gut is still sore. And you ache all over."

"Nothing new." Not really. Since having nearly every bone in his body broken and his skin used like a scratching post by the stin, Felix and pain were best friends. Numerous small aches formed the baseline of his days.

"Really?" Zed's lips twisted down.

"I'm not feeling spectacular." In fact, now that he was somewhat horizontal, fatigue pulled at every corner of his being. "But I'm still going to love you from head to toe." He let the truth of his words filter through his fingers. He could get used to this connection.

Zed sat up and finished pulling his boots and pants off. Then he knelt back on the bed, slipped a hand under each of Felix's arms and hauled him backward and up so that he lay nestled in the pillows. "I think it's my turn to do the loving."

Felix's palm shot toward Zed's chest. He spread his fingers through the curls he found there, distracted momentarily by warm skin, soft, bristly hair and the beat of Zed's heart. The simplicity of his need. "I…"

Zed leaned down and closed his lips with a kiss. Felix let go for a few beats, enjoying the pressure of Zed's mouth, the flick of his tongue. Then the familiar panic grew from a vague itch to a reactive need. He pushed at Zed's chest again.

"Shh," Zed whispered against his lips. "I know. You're not ready to have me inside you mentally and physically just yet."

Well, fuck.

"I was just gonna say…" Felix hadn't actually picked out the words yet. Usually telling Zed he wanted to love him worked—not that he had to state his preference often. Zed liked bottoming more than any man he'd ever met. Despite his own hang-ups, Felix knew why. Zed got so few chances to let go and have someone else take the reins.

"That's it exactly," Zed murmured.

Felix met his gaze again and something passed between them. Beyond thought, outside the weird new connection. A moment of absolute understanding where all the galaxy fell into sync. "I love you."

Zed nosed his cheek. "Love you too."

"We're going to have to set some limits on this connection thing. I can't have you learning all my secrets."

Zed laughed. "Exactly what I'd expect you to say after a declaration of love."

Felix huffed.

"I already know all your secrets, Flick."

Before Felix could summon an answer to that, and the proper indignation to accompany it, Zed had kissed a path to his cock. Warm lips plucked at Felix's length, coaxing his thoughtful thickness into a full erection. Groaning, Felix closed his eyes, pushed his head back into the pillow and let Zed love him.

Time ebbed and flowed as Zed alternately swallowed and teased him, pressing his tongue into service when the back of his throat wasn't squeezing Felix toward release. Fingers stroked and rolled his balls, driving Felix's hips up higher as he attempted to fuck Zed's mouth. He lost track of the aches in his bones because his bones had disappeared. The tangle in his gut only pulled when he tried to rut. Then, just before he lost all control, Zed squeezed the base of his cock and pulled away with a wet slurp.

"Fuck me."

"No, you're gonna fuck me." Zed kept the pressure steady until the urge to come receded. Then, loosening his fingers, he reached for the lube.

Felix struggled up to his elbows and Zed did the palm-to-the-middle-of-the-chest thing. "Stay there."

"Hmm?"

Retrieving his hand, Zed lubed up his fingers and reached back to prep himself.

"Wow." The exclamation left Felix on a breath as he took in the sight of his lover kneeling over him, head tipped back as he fingered his own ass. The muscles across Zed's chest flexed gently with each motion, nipple rings glinting invitingly in the soft light. Quietly panted breaths parted his lips. It was, without a doubt, the most erotic thing Felix had ever seen. "You're gonna have to do this more often. I could come watching you." He reached down to squeeze low on his cock again.

"Don't you fucking dare." Zed's expression nearly undid Felix's resolve. His lips pouted and his eyes glowed. After wiping off his fingers, Zed helped himself to more lube and slicked Felix's erection, stroking carefully. "You're saving it for me."

"Always."

Still holding Felix's cock, Zed moved forward and lowered himself, brow wrinkling briefly as he was breached. Felix sighed at the wondrous pressure closing around him. Zed let go, planted a hand to either side of Felix's shoulders and continued down. Resisting the urge to thrust up into that tight heat, Felix watched Zed's face, the minute changes of expression as he was stretched and filled. His mouth gaped, his eyelids slid down and his breath came harder and faster. Then he was settled. Zed's eyes opened again, locking on to his.

Felix shook his head, rolling it from side to side in the pillow. "No, don't want to do the thinky-connecty thing right now. Just move, Zed. God." His own eyes rolled back. His hips jerked up. "You feel so good."

"So do you." Zed shifted his hips. "We need to do this more often."

"Nessa already complains we fuck like rabbits."

"No, this. Me riding you." A slow smile spread across Zed's mouth. At the same time, he squeezed Felix's cock.

It almost hurt. He almost came. "Holy whatever…do that again."

"How 'bout this?" Zed rolled his hips.

Felix's nuts hitched upward. "Don't even have to move. I could come just lying here. Watching you."

Zed's smile warmed and gentled. He bent down to brush a light kiss across Felix's lips. When he pushed back, his expression said "sex business." Grinning, Felix braced, turning his hands palm down—marveling momentarily at the ease with which he moved his new arm—and clutched at the rumpled bedclothes. Zed raised his hips and lowered them.

Felix buried the back of his head in the pillow and sighed out a long groan. Up and down, up and down. His hips soon joined the party, lifting just in time to meet each descent, seeking that deeper connection as Zed once again seated himself. Up and down, in and out. For unmeasured moments, Felix existed in the place where he was his cock and the exquisite friction his skin. The slide and release, his soul.

He could feel Zed's breath as short puffs across his face and chest, as the heave of lungs that weren't his own, as the conscious thought of breath being necessary, as the mindless need of a working body. Then the pace increased. Zed moving faster, Felix matching him. Felix wrapped his fingers around Zed's bobbing cock and stroked in time.

Zed hissed. "Careful…I'm close."

"Mmm, me too."

Zed sat down, squeezed and rocked. Felix yelped. His rock-hard balls jerked and his cock pulsed. "Coming." Less a warning than a statement of impending release. Permission to let go, to just…go.

Felix thrust up and his orgasm pulled him several degrees higher, emptying him of one need and filling him with another. Zed's shouts echoed his own and hot fluid jetted between Felix's fingers to splash across his abs and chest. One drop caught the corner of his mouth. Instinctively, he closed his eyes. His tongue swiped out to catch a taste.

The emotional tide hit him next, crashing into him with the same force as his orgasm. Zed's immense satisfaction and a sense of release he both did and did not recognize. Letting go, falling under, being carried along by a current not of his own creation. A river, of warmth and love, and a willingness to drown, right there and then, knowing Felix would save him.

"Always." Felix's voice cracked on the single word.

Zed dropped down to press their lips together, the kiss breathless and incomplete. "I know. God, I've always known. But even now…" He stopped to draw in a breath. "Never letting go."

Felix wrapped his arms around Zed's sweaty back. Together, they trembled and quaked. Aftershocks, revelations exchanged on the weird new mental channel. Love. He buried his face in the crook of Zed's shoulder. Sucked at the salt on his skin. "Never letting go."