Chapter 4

FOUR

B oyfriends. After walking away from him—without looking back—Zed wanted to be boyfriends. Loved him, apparently. Had loved him for four goddamned years. Had told Felix to pick his heart up off that rooftop graduation night and put it back in his chest, knowing he carried it with him when he left. Knowing Felix would pine for him.

Had Zed loved him while he was boning his colonial farmer?

Had Zed loved him while he was pictured all over the society nets with Riley Whatsherface?

His fist connected with Zed's face with almost no conscious effort on Felix's part. Zed rocked back, eyes wide with shock, a hand coming up to cup the angry red mark blooming along his jaw. Felix turned so fast, he slid across the tile. He grabbed the door. Then, finding his balance, he pushed it open and stepped carefully across the bathroom floor until he reached the towel rail. They should have done this in the bedroom where soft linens and the funk of sex…

Felix growled, the sound well suited to all he felt inside. He was being chewed up.

"What the fuck?" Zed stepped carefully out of the shower.

"Four years!" He yanked at a towel, not quite sure if he was more angry or hurt or just confused. "Did it take you that long to decide you loved me, or did you just need to test out a few other folks first? Make sure I was the hole that fit best?"

"That is not fucking fair."

"No? What do you think I've been doing all this time, huh? Waiting in a box for you to unwrap when you were ready?"

"Of course not. Flick?—"

"Don't call me that!"

Zed looked as if he'd swallowed something sharp. "Felix."

Felix left the bathroom before he could hit Zed again—not that he had the strength for it. He felt sapped, weak. He also felt as though he might cry. He flung his towel across the bed and rummaged in his hold-all for clean clothes. He'd got his undershorts on when two strong arms caught him from behind. Annoyed he hadn't heard Zed's approach, Felix kicked and struggled. Zed's hold didn't loosen—but nor did it tighten.

"Stop, please. Just?—"

"What are you doing?" Felix asked.

"Will you just listen to me?"

"I don't want to."

"You're acting like a child."

"You broke my heart, Zed. How did you expect me to act?"

Zed's arms loosened, then fell away. "I…what?"

Felix turned around. "I told you I loved you and you walked away. How did you think I was going to feel?"

"I wasn't ready."

Felix opened his mouth, retort ready to roll…and breathed out nothing but air. He'd said almost those exact words to someone else. Someone who had loved him, who might have been prepared to wait for him. Someone he hadn't been able to commit to because of the man standing in front of him right now.

Zed wasn't the only one who'd been looking for the right fit. Felix had had a fairly seriously relationship with that close friend in specialist training and he'd tried to love Theo as much as he could tell Theo loved him. He'd almost succeeded, too, until he remembered they'd be separated by the same thing that had torn him and Zed apart. He and Theo wouldn't be stationed together. Not so early in their careers—maybe not ever.

"Fuck," he whispered.

Now truly deflated, he sat on the end of the bed. Zed sat next to him and Felix noticed he'd wrapped a towel around his hips. His skin—as golden as Felix remembered—glistened with moisture. The scent of soap and Zed wafted around them. Felix massaged his chest, right over his heart—which didn't seem to be with the program. It beat solidly and slowly, as if he hadn't just thrown an epic shit fit and hit the man he…

"It hurt," he said, glancing sideways.

Zed's steel blue eyes showed remorse. "I'm sorry."

Felix nodded. He should apologize for the bruise creeping along Zed's jaw, but he didn't feel like it. Instead, he rejoined the conversation Zed had wanted to have in the shower of all places. Had he meant it? Zed would never lie. The better question would be did he know what he really wanted. Of course he did. Zed planned everything.

"You knew. Yesterday, you knew this was what you wanted."

"Yeah."

"Did you know I'd hit you?"

Zed prodded his jaw…gently, but one corner of his mouth twitched. "I should have guessed."

Was this the part where Felix should say he was sorry, or lay out the truth? Maybe the latter could serve as the former. "I lied before. I'm not over you." The pain in his chest sharpened for a second. "I really want to hate you, Zed." No, he didn't. Never that. His breath hitched. "I mean…"

"Shh. I know what you mean."

Zed leaned toward him and Felix met him halfway. Not for a kiss—they weren't acting out some romance holovid. Their shoulders touched and seemed to meld together, and the simple connection felt like a combination of support and complicity. After a moment, Zed shifted so he could bring his arm up around Felix's back. Felix turned into the sideways embrace and put his arms around Zed's waist. Tucked his face in under Zed's chin and hugged him tight.

"I'm sorry," Zed whispered. "It was so new and…I didn't trust it. I didn't trust me ."

"Couldn't you trust me?" Flick muttered into Zed's chest.

"I should have."

"Damn straight."

"I didn't mean to break your heart." Zed brushed a hand over Flick's wet curls. The words, maybe the gesture, elicited only a grunt. "The timing was…"

"It sucked," Flick supplied as Zed's voice drifted into silence.

"Yeah."

"No matter what you said about arranging postings and shit, the timing still sucks." Flick lifted his head to eye Zed. "Why now?"

He could say he was older and wiser, but though the older part fit, the wiser sure didn't. The scar on the back of his head was a reminder of just how wise he wasn't. "I love being in the AEF. I loved being focused on my career. Anyone I've been with—I was with them because they didn't interfere with that focus. They might have been fun company, someone to spend downtime with, but they didn't matter. Not like a partner should. And then I was laid up for a few days, where I couldn't watch a holo or read or really do anything but think."

"You must have been in heaven," Flick said drily.

Yeah, his penchant for deep thinking had been well known amongst his friends at the Academy. "Not really." He sighed. "Look, what I'm trying to say is that my focus shifted. Less about the job and more about what I left behind. Who."

"Me."

"Yeah."

"And you really think we can make this work?"

"I want to try." Zed held Flick's gaze. "I'm ready to try."

He left the question unspoken, but it hovered in the air between them anyway.

Are you?

In answer, Flick pushed up and caught Zed's mouth with his. The first kiss was gentle—almost hesitant. The second less so—but it wasn't bruising or punishing, either. Just…forceful. As if it had waited years to be unleashed. Zed opened his mouth and welcomed the invasion. Needing it. Wanting it. Warmth rushed through him at the realization that even if their future was balanced on the weight of a yes or a no from Flick, they would still have this.

He let Flick push him back onto the bed. His towel opened and fell away, and Zed wasn't sure if it had been helped by Flick's clever fingers or merely movement and gravity. He scooted back, his neck arched to keep his lips in contact with Flick's as they moved to the center of the massive bed, and ignored the twinge from the bruise on his jaw. This moment was worth the pain of a hundred bruises.

Somehow, Flick managed to wiggle out of his undershorts. When the full length of his body pressed Zed into the mattress, it was free of any clothing. Nothing separated them. Skin on hot skin, a sensation Zed had dreamed of feeling with this man in particular, but had worried he never would. He gasped as their cocks came in contact and immediately gave a thrust upward, wanting more. But kissing was too important, too needed , to just stop. The connection of lips on lips was deceptively simple—never before had Zed understood just how essential it could be.

Flick moaned into his mouth and his hips took up the motion Zed's had insisted on. His cock slid in the groove that separated Zed's abdomen from his thigh, as though it had been made for that specific purpose. And it was good, so good, but Zed wanted more. With an effort, he braced a hand on Flick's chest and tried to separate their mouths. It took a couple of tries before he could resist the siren call of Flick's swollen, reddened lips and form words.

"Wait."

"Hmm?" Flick's buttocks flexed and Zed almost— almost —groaned and fell back into pure sensation.

Fuck. What was he going to ask? Oh yeah. "I want to make love."

"Isn't this?—"

"You inside me."

That got Flick's attention. He froze and pushed back just enough to stare down at Zed, his eyes searching for…something. "Do you mean…you want to…Really?" he finally managed.

Zed swallowed and nodded.

"Have you ever….?"

Zed shook his head.

This time, the shudder went through Flick's body. He leaned forward, his forehead resting on Zed's. "Okay…fuck. Okay."

"Do you prefer to?—"

"I prefer to do exactly what we're gonna do." Flick chuckled and lifted his head. The laughter faded quickly, replaced by heat. "I'm gonna make it so good. I promise."

"I trust you." And he did—with every particle of his being.

Flick found lube in the nightstand drawer. He didn't ask about it, but the fact that he found it without Zed directing him to it said he remembered Zed's need to plan and be prepared. There might be years separating them now, new experiences, but they were still them. Zed and Felix. Best friends and now…

Zed hissed at the feel of slick fingers down below. It wasn't like he'd never touched himself there—he just had never shared it with anyone.

"You okay?"

"Don't stop," Zed ordered, forcing himself to relax.

Another stroke of a finger, then it sank inside. Zed groaned.

"Can't believe you've never…" Flick's finger wiggled, then another joined it. The burn was unfamiliar…but good, in a weird sort of way.

Zed brushed his fingers against Flick's cheek, encouraging him to look up. "No one else ever mattered enough."

Flick whispered something—might have been a curse—and crooked his fingers. Zed jolted with the shock of overwhelming intensity. His cock bobbed against his lower abdomen for a second before Flick bent forward and engulfed the leaking head in his mouth.

"Christ!" Zed pushed his head back into the mattress, trying to find enough willpower not to come. His hips rocked, pushing his dick up into that warm cave of a mouth, and back onto those amazing fingers. He'd never felt anything quite like it—all encompassing. His movements quickened, beyond his control, and he nearly whimpered when Flick released his cock with a pop.

"I've got you," Flick murmured. He pulled over a pillow and tucked it under the small of Zed's back, then positioned himself over Zed, moving his hands to either side of Zed's torso to brace himself. "Better to be on your stomach for the first time, you know."

"Want this. Want to see you." Zed gripped Flick's ribs and tugged him forward. "C'mon."

Flick looked down and gripped his cock to line himself up, then lifted his gaze to watch Zed's face. "Tell me if you want me to stop, if you want to change positions, or?—"

"Felix, please ."

A little growl escaped as Flick gave in and pressed forward. Zed held his breath at the sensation of something that felt really fucking big pressing at a hole that was really fucking small, but Flick didn't stop. He kept moving, pressing, demanding that Zed's body allow him that intimacy that he'd never allowed anyone else. He slipped inside, millimeter by millimeter, and damn, it hurt. Zed's erection flagged.

"Gets better," Flick said, his voice strained. "Fuck, you're tight."

Zed focused on breathing, on relaxing muscles he'd never been so aware of. Finally, Zed felt Flick's balls against his ass and he let out a shuddering sigh.

"You good?" Flick brushed a finger against Zed's cheek.

"Not sure." The burn was still there, the stretch, but it was eclipsed by an intense feeling of fullness that Zed couldn't decide if he liked or not. It was definitely the weirdest feeling he'd ever experienced.

Then Flick rocked his hips back and forward, and Zed understood why anal sex was a thing.

"Oh my God," he breathed. "Again."

Words abandoned him shortly after, leaving him awash in sensations. That magic spot Flick had teased earlier—his prostate—sparked incessantly now, stimulated to the point of mindless, almost-but-not-quite pain. Zed's mouth dropped open and his head fell back, totally incapable of rational thought, or words, or even making sounds.

It was so goddamned good .

Flick shifted position and he was suddenly pegging Zed's gland on every thrust. Zed's eyes rolled back and his hands struggled to find something, anything, to hold onto. He settled for Flick's arms, grabbing them right above the clenched fists that belied the intensity of it all for Flick, too.

"Getting close," Flick gasped. "Fuck…oh, fuck."

Oh…that was something else he could grab. One of his hands flailed for his dick. He gave it a stroke, thinking he could come from just that one caress—but his body was so overstimulated, it was almost painful. He'd have to chase his orgasm, and he did, timing his strokes to Flick's thrusts. Sounds started to emerge from his throat, whimpers he might have been embarrassed about if it was anyone but Flick hearing them.

But it was Flick. The man he loved.

Flick's hips snapped forward, and he let out a strangled yell, his hands shifting from the bed to hold Zed's hips, the fingertips digging in hard. Flick was coming—coming inside of him?—

And that was enough to send Zed over the edge too. A hoarse shout ripped from his throat. It might have been Flick's name, might have been a curse, might have been nothing at all but an animalistic sound of release. His cock jerked, semen fountaining over his abs, as Flick continued to pulse inside of him.

Best fucking feeling ever.

"Jesus," Flick rasped, falling forward. "Jesus."

Zed let his hands fall to his sides, even as his body gave another jerk, another spasm. He felt utterly boneless, incapable of moving. His eyes slipped to half-mast and he knew his lips were slightly curved—but he didn't fucking care.

Slowly, Flick pulled back, separating them, and even the sensation of his come trickling from secret places couldn't rouse Zed from his stupor. A chuckle floated over him and the mattress shifted as Flick flopped beside him.

"In the dictionary beside ‘well-fucked' is a picture of you," Flick said, the pride in his contribution to Zed's state apparent. "You okay?"

Zed opened his mouth, but his tongue and throat didn't really want to work together to make any sort of intelligible noise. He settled for a grunt and nod instead.

"I've fucked the ability to talk out of you. I'm awesome." Flick chuckled. "When my legs work again, I'll get a towel to clean us up." He rested his head on Zed's shoulder. "Guess we don't have to worry if we're sexually compatible."

Chuckling, Zed tilted his head to press a sloppy kiss to Flick's temple. Nope, definitely not something to worry about.

It was tempting to lie there until they fell asleep—the fact they'd not long been awake notwithstanding. Over the past couple of years, Felix had rarely had the luxury of lying beside a lover, wrapped in the warmth of the afterglow. He wanted to bask in it. He wanted to count the ways he loved Zed—maybe out loud. He wanted to cuddle and talk and nuzzle and just be.

It was weird, but familiar in a way he couldn't describe.

It felt right .

Zed's heart beat slowed with his breath and Felix wondered if he'd slipped under the same spell. Maybe he'd just fallen back asleep. Then Zed's hand found his, fingers threading through Felix's fingers. He squeezed gently and the touch said more than words ever could.

Felix remembered the first time they'd held hands. It hadn't seemed to mean much. Zed was stuck in a duct—he'd been chasing Felix through the bowels of Pontus Station. Felix had nicked his wallet, so the chase was fair game until Zed tried to shove his well-fed body through the same tight air duct Felix so often used to lose pursuers. Felix looked back, ready to thumb his nose at the other boy, and stopped. Zed's expression had not been one of defeat, anger or even humiliation. Instead, he'd smiled, clearly acknowledging Felix's win.

Felix wouldn't have trusted that smile on any other face. He couldn't even say why he had then. But he climbed back into the duct and offered Zed his hand. They grasped wrists, just as the heroes did in the adventure holos, and Felix had pulled him out. Zed let him keep the wallet and they'd been friends ever since.

The second time they held hands hadn't seemed as important until now. It had been their first day at Shepard Academy and Felix had been scared witless. He'd been the smallest, the most poorly dressed, the student with the least amount of luggage. He had an accent, a truncated way of speaking developed by generations of station born, and no formal education. He didn't belong. He'd been staring up at the imposing buildings of the academy, ready to bolt, when Zed caught his hand and entwined their fingers, much as he'd just done. He squeezed and smiled that smile of his, the one that always made Felix feel as if he was the only other person in the galaxy.

"This is just the beginning, Flick."

"No such thing as endings and beginnings. Only middles."

He'd hoped to sound smart and brave.

Now, ten years later, Zed said, "We must be in the middle by now."

Felix laughed—struck by how Zed had known just what he was thinking and glad their thoughts had returned to the same day. Thinking forward had never been Felix's thing—because the present moment was the one they all lived in, right? Same was true back then, same was true now.

He squeezed Zed's hand in return. This time, he had nothing to prove. Oh, he was scared witless, still, but felt no need to cover for it. It was what it was. "Definitely in the middle," he said, lifting his chin to invite another kiss.