The Bonds Of Love

Chapter 1-3

The super strength came from Matt. From loving him.

So did the telepathy, and any other extraordinary power Vic exhibited on a day to day basis.

The whole thing still managed to catch Vic unaware, especially when a new power manifested beyond his control. Whenever they made love, something in Matt’s semen gave Vic exaggerated superhuman abilities. Like a s****l Russian roulette, Vic was never quite sure what the morning after would bring. The power du jour seemed to depend on their position during s*x. Missionary style with Vic on top, and his mind opened to the world in telepathic ways. When Matt was on top, Vic grew stronger than any living man, able to bench press over a thousand pounds as if the weights were feathers. He lifted a city bus once, just the back of it, to test out the strength. The memory still terrified him.

The telepathy was there from the first time they made love—Vic woke to find his mind invaded with a million other thoughts, none of them his. The strength had come next. Since then, those two powers had been ever-present. And though Matt had no powers of his own, despite the fact that he transferred them to his s****l partners, a telepathic connection had opened between them, like a psychic telephone line. Even when Vic managed to tune out the rest of the world, Matt was always there.

Other positions brought with them other powers, bright just after s*x but diminishing as the day wore on, until they disappeared altogether. Spooned together with Matt behind him gave Vic invisibility. Sitting on Matt’s lap as they f****d made Vic cry out in a range of sound that set neighborhood dogs barking. And once, standing in the shower, Vic grasped the towel rack as Matt thrust into him from behind…the next morning he found he could fly.

For Christmas one year Matt bought Vic an illustrated copy of the Kama Sutra for Gay Men, mostly for laughs. But over time, Vic penciled in which positions gave him what powers, until the contents page read like a comic book line-up of superhero abilities. The book sat on his bedside table, pencil stuck between the pages to mark the last position tried. As Vic carried Matt to their car, he thought back to the previous evening when his lover had picked a position at random. It’d been something convoluted and almost impossible to duplicate, though God knew they’d had fun trying. Matt lying on his back, Vic above him on his stomach, between Matt’s legs, his ass within easy reach. As Matt eased into him, Vic took one of Matt’s feet in both hands and nibbled his lover’s toes—he loved Matt’s feet, and nuzzled them as Matt slowly, so slowly penetrated him.

They moved together carefully, Vic’s legs cradling Matt’s upper body as he licked and fawned over Matt’s feet. The s*x seemed an almost secondary act; the love was in the intimate touch of their bodies, the kisses focused only on one erogenous area, the unseen hands that caressed and kneaded Vic’s large buttocks. By the time Matt came, Vic had already climaxed twice, and before going to bed, he dog-eared that page in the book because damn, he loved that position.

But he had nothing to write beside it on the table of contents.

This morning, nothing had seemed different to him. No flames leapt from his fingertips, no icy blasts chilled his coffee mug. No X-ray vision, no super speed, no powers at all, it seemed. As the day wore on and nothing happened, he began to wonder if maybe, maybe, they’d finally found a position that negated Matt’s gift. If so, Vic wouldn’t mind. He didn’t need the powers, didn’t want them really—he hated waking to find that in the night, his body had discovered a new trick, one he sometimes couldn’t easily hide from the rest of the world. Like the time various bones in his arms and legs spontaneously disappeared; Vic had to call in sick that day, couldn’t drive a city bus when his wrist might turn limp and useless at any moment. That position was crossed off the table of contents, definitely. If they had found a way to make love without transferring the powers, Vic would be ecstatic. And he’d enjoyed the position, particularly when he could suckle his lover’s toes during the deed.

Yes, if that was the only way they could make love from now on, Vic was all for it.

Still, he wanted to be sure before he said anything, so he kept his thoughts to himself. It was easy to do; Matt was too drunk to pry into his mind and see what Vic might be hiding. If tomorrow came without any new powers, then Vic would voice his theory. When Matt was sober enough to appreciate it.

Please let me be right, Vic prayed, weaving through the crowds to the parking lot. I want this man and I’ll take the powers if I have to but I don’t need them. Just him.

Just him.

Chapter 2

When they reached the car, Vic backed up to the open passenger side door and eased Matt off his back to the waiting seat below. The hands clutching him relaxed, then disappeared. With a yawn, Matt stretched across both front seats of Vic’s battered Toyota Corolla, legs dangling out the open door. “Matt,” Vic sighed. When his lover didn’t move, he raised Matt’s legs one at a time, propping them up on the passenger seat so he could shut the door.

He didn’t expect Matt to sit up as he skirted the back of the car, heading for the driver’s side, and he wasn’t disappointed. Unlocking his door, he found Matt’s head in the driver’s seat, smiling up at him. His feet now rested on the closed door on the other side of the car. “Hey there, big boy,” Matt drawled. “Wanna ride?”

Vic shook his head, exasperated. “Sit up, silly.” Matt just gave him a drunken grin. Easing one leg between the seat and steering wheel, Vic warned, “I’m going to sit on you.”

In response, Matt opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, wiggling it as if eager to lick Vic’s ass. “Drop trou first.”

With a shake of his head, Vic grasped Matt’s shoulders and managed to shoulder him into the passenger side seat. Sliding behind the wheel, Vic got as far as starting the engine before Matt’s arms were on his waist, his face leaning against Vic’s warm, bare bicep. Cuddling into him, Matt murmured, “Where to, Papa Smurf?”

“Home.” Where Vic could give into the desire and love roiling through him at Matt’s antics and take this man into him. Matt was never this touchy-feely in public; Vic would have to remember to let him drink more often. Every superhero has a weakness. He tried to extract himself from Matt’s tight embrace. His is alcohol, and mine is him. “Matt, let me drive. Sit back—”

His chin on Vic’s shoulder, Matt demanded, “Kiss me first, you big lug.”

With a playful growl of frustration, Vic planted a quick peck on his lover’s cheek. Matt laughed. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

Vic tried again, touching his lips to Matt’s for a chaste kiss. But as he pulled away, Matt touched his jaw and turned Vic’s face to his. “Not so fast,” he murmured, covering Vic’s mouth with his own.

For a long moment they kissed, lips pressed together in a velvety crush. Their heartbeats seemed to slow, and the world around them stretched out minute by minute until the seconds trickled by. The crowd sounded far away, like distant surf—the only immediate sounds were Matt’s breath against Vic’s cheek and the faint rumble of the car’s idling engine.

Then Matt’s lips parted, and his tongue trailed over Vic’s lower lip. Vic sighed—with that, Matt licked into him, tasting him, claiming him. The beer on his lover’s breath took Vic’s own away. Slowly, oh God so slowly, Matt traced the inside of Vic’s mouth with his tongue, remembering every curve, every tooth, every soft crevice as their kiss deepened. One hand gripped the back of Vic’s neck, pulling him closer, and their lips mashed together, their tongues speaking a language that fanned the flames of lust inside both their bodies until the very core of their beings burned like stars in the night. This maddening kiss, so slow, so tender, so right, heated Vic with a passion that glowed white-hot within him; Matt’s hand at his waist, kneading Vic’s own budding erection, only fueled the fire. Vic opened one eye to ensure that he wasn’t giving off sparks or radiating some obscene laser show at Matt’s touch.

The car around them was dark, the only light coming from the concert venue beyond the windows. But they were still in public, and Vic wanted nothing more than to fall into bed beside Matt. Though every nerve in his body screamed in protest, he caught the hand in his lap and laced his fingers through his lover’s. With reluctance, he pulled away, ending their kiss. Matt glanced up at him with dulled eyes and damp, too red lips that looked swollen and tempting. “Like that,” Matt murmured, squeezing Vic’s hand in his. “Kiss me like that next time I ask.”

“Just you wait ‘til we get home,” Vic promised. With a laugh, he put the car into gear and began to navigate the narrow parking lot to the exit. “Unless you fall asleep on me.”

With his head still on Vic’s shoulder, Matt curled up in the passenger seat and hugged Vic’s arm in both of his. “Oh, no,” Matt assured him. “I’m up.”