Fallon’s Jewel

Chapter One Terran Outpost A, Earth year 2586   Falling, falling, surrounded by blue. Fluffy white clouds race heavenward as Kenji shoots down, and brown parched earth rushes up to meet him. A woman screams from above him, others scream below. He screws his eyes shut and gives rise to his mantra in preparation of death, for the moment his spirit departs from its physical encasement. Though only in his twelfth year of life, he’s been preparing for death a long time now. Closer and closer the hard-packed earth comes. Then stops. He is suddenly suspended, his sandaled feet mere inches above the ground. Something large and strong holds him back from death. “I’ve got you,” a voice says close to his ear. “You’re safe now.” He gasps. A human being is holding him. A man in military uniform, wearing a jet pack. Kenji looks up at him, but heavy goggles, black and shiny like a bug’s eyes and a helmet obscure his features—   “Hey, Kenji, how about a kiss?” The voice dispelled the vision. Kenji blinked and collected himself then looked around to see if Spike was nearby and would reprimand him. The vision came regularly, even during the middle of a busy shift and as always, immobilized him. “Kenji! You ignoring me?” Still savoring the ghostly feel of those strong arms around him, Kenji yanked his bar towel from where it rested on his shoulder, wiped the bar surface and hung the towel on its hook, the signal his shift was over. Grabbing his jacket, he lifted the small hinged door that would let him out from behind the bar. I’ve got you. You’re safe now the man’s voice teased his brain, made his body tingle— “Kenji!” Now he turned. Bud, one of the roughneck patrons just back from Earth leaned over the bar, waggling his eyebrows. Apparently, booze hit a man harder when he was changing atmospheres. The man's shaved head gleamed with sweat under the lights. In the background, someone hooted loudly at the live erotic show going on in the next room. The whispery remnants of the vision receded into the heavy feeling which plagued him so often. Bud was a nice enough guy but he wasn’t…never mind. That was a fantasy. He worked a smile onto his lips so as not to hurt Bud’s feelings. “Just on the forehead, Bud, remember?” Disappointment shifted through the other man’s stubbled, sweaty face. He gave an exaggerated sigh, causing the acrid smell of gin to puff between them. “Well, all right. If that’s the only way I’ll get one.” “Yeah, sorry.” He retrieved his bar towel and wiped the man’s forehead. “Damn, Kenji, am I that bad?” “Do I have to answer?” Bud grinned. “No. Just give me that kiss.” Smiling, Kenji leaned forward and planted a small kiss on the lines across the man's forehead. Some day with the right guy, he’d give in to temptation and do it on the lips. But not until then. That is, if he didn’t already have someone out there… Bud’s face darkened and his bleary eyes got a bit of a dreamy look. “s**t, Kenji, you’re hot. And that eye patch, that really does it for me.” Kenji’s cheeks heated and he was glad for the dim light. Bud wasn’t the first guy to want favors from him. Many of them wished he was a hustler instead of a bartender so they could sample more of him for a fee. Spike would let him switch over if he wanted to, but it didn’t feel right. If only he could remember. Did he already have a…lover out there, somewhere? Maybe on Earth? So, instead, he poured drinks, Stellar Beer and Stellar Gin, and sometimes the more expensive stuff imported from Earth. There weren’t many choices this far away from the mother planet. But the men who came to Spike’s didn’t care about choices. They were mostly space cowboys, off-duty Intergalactic Space Patrol agents and bounty hunters coming to cut loose, get drunk and get some action with a hustler in one of the small back rooms reserved for the purpose. Bud, a regular, was one of them, coming in every couple of weeks after one of his treasure-hunting stints around the galaxies. “Kenji.” Bud was, practically hanging over the edge of the bar, his eyes hungry and dreamy, as if Kenji’s lips had delivered a spell. Kenji chuckled though he took a step back. “What is it, Bud?” “When are you going to give in to my charms? I could show you a really good time.” In spite of his inebriation, Bud sounded mostly sincere. But as badly as Kenji wanted s*x, Bud wasn’t the one, even with a shower and a shave and some breath improvement. He sighed. “Sorry, Bud. You’re a good guy. It’s just—“ “I know, I know. You must be saving yourself for Mr. Right.” “Yeah, I guess so.” Bud grinned. “I hope you find him.” Relieved he hadn’t hurt Bud’s feeling too badly, Kenji smiled at him. “Thanks.” Just then, one of the hustlers, James, a good-looking blond in a fancy suit, came up and seated himself next to Bud. Within moments, the two were headed to the back rooms. Shaking his head with a smile, he grabbed his jacket and lifted the bar door again. His pockets were weighed down with tips, enough to pay this month’s rent for the little room across from the marketplace. It wasn’t much, but it was close to Mr. Matsuoto and his wife, the kind folks who’d looked after him when he’d shown up, naked and wandering in a daze, not even knowing where he’d come from or remembering how he’d gotten there. All he’d known was his first name and all he still remembered after three months. The Matsuotos were his only family, his only link to any kind of belonging. Working his way through the maze of leather-clad bodies, he made it halfway to the door and stopped. The vision came again, the blue sky, the falling. It felt so real, he couldn’t move. The sensation of strong arms holding him, the voice telling him he was safe, held him rooted. Bumped and jostled, assaulted by the stench of sweat, smoke and stale beer, he stood, unmoving. The screech of music and the guffaws of carousing guys thundered around him, yet all he felt was the ghostly arms, a warm safe touch that contrasted starkly with the lonely quiet of the rented room waiting for him. When this vision first started, it had been weak enough to ignore. But each night at the end of his shift, it got stronger and stronger, rousing an ache deep within him, making him toss and turn on his thin mattress. Tonight, the thought of going back to his apartment, alone, to sleep, was unbearable. Retracing his steps, he worked his way back toward the bar and seated himself on a stool. Dan, the other bartender whose shift was only half over, came up to him. “You’re sticking around tonight, Kenji?” he shouted over the raucous laughter and jeers at the erotic show. Kenji recognized the nature of the shouting. At this point, the performers were getting to the penetration of bodily orifices on both ends. He nodded and accepted a glass of fizzy water with some kind of fruity flavor in it. Dan knew he didn’t drink spirits. “Yeah. I thought I’d hang around here…you know, unwind a little.” “I know how it is.” Dan winked at him and rushed off to serve someone waving a handful of credits at him. Kenji sipped his fizzy water and listened to the sounds around him. “Yeah, give it to him!” came a shout from the other room. Kenji forced himself not to lean from his stool in such a way as to be able to see the stage. If it was the same show he’d caught sight of a few times already, one muscular man had been on his knees in front of another, a gracefully slim guy, hands on his hips, sucking his c**k while a third man knelt behind the sucking man and was having intercourse with him, pumping in and out of his ass. Kenji had stared, shock keeping him glued, then something else. His body came to life. Blood pumped straight to his groin, causing an erection that had been painful. Since then, he’d avoided the show. That night he’d done something he hadn’t done since waking up with no memory. He’d relieved the ache in his groin with his hand, feeling as if he tasted some forbidden act yet helpless to stop. The memory of those three men had been driving him to madness. He didn’t know why the physical act seemed so illicit, but the feeling had persisted. Seeking to distract himself, he took another sip, surveying the patrons over the rim of his glass. He allowed himself that little game, the fantasy search for the man he was looking for. The one Bud called Mr. Right. But most of the guys were ones he saw all the time. Dirty and unshaven, clad in black leather, heavy boots and holsters for weapons, which Spike strictly demanded were checked in at the door. Some of the guys were good-looking, Kenji could see underneath the dirt and stubble, while others were too rough for his taste. Once in a while he found himself imagining one or another of them in bed with him, kissing, stroking each other’s c***s, sucking, licking… A gust of cooler air breezed through, pulling Kenji from a burgeoning fantasy. He looked in the direction of the door, closing in the wake of yet another brawny patron. Kenji’s heart beat a little harder. The man—a stranger to him--checked his weapon. Tall. Broad shoulders. Muscular chest straining against a white T-shirt. Dark, close-cropped hair, nice sideburns. This one was different. Kenji’s mouth went dry. This one was hot. By his clean-cut appearance Kenji guessed he was a cop. That was nothing unusual in this place. But there was something about the way he moved—deliberate—smooth, relaxed yet tightly wound, like he could spring in a second, that kept Kenji’s attention riveted. At that second, the guy looked up. His eyes made a brief yet slow survey of the crowded room. And then they landed on Kenji. Kenji couldn’t tell what color they were from this distance, but he could feel them. They seemed to burn down into his very soul. They seemed to know who he was even when Kenji himself didn’t know. Everything in the roomful of rowdy tattooed, leather-clad space junkies, space cowboys and bounty hunters receded. He was more captured than he was during one of his visions. And then he began to walk toward Kenji, his eyes never leaving Kenji’s, his brawny torso flexing with each step. Was it a few seconds or minutes before the guy stood before him, so close to his barstool that Kenji could see the dark stubble covering the strong line of his chin and jaw? So close that he caught a whiff of something spicy? Cologne that made Kenji’s groin tingle. The man pointed to the empty stool. “Is this seat taken?” He had a nice smile and incredible eyes, the color of the blue through which Kenji was falling in his recurring vision. Yet in those eyes was a touch of sadness the grin didn’t dispel. Kenji blinked, only just noticing the stool next to him had been vacated within the last few seconds by the hustler sitting there. He must have gotten a hit and taken his customer to the back rooms. “I was saving it for you,” he heard himself say. And froze. What had possessed him? He’d never spoken like that to anyone. A throaty chuckle. “That so “Well, this is my lucky night, isn’t it?” He seated himself and held out a hand. “Jake Fallon, Intergalactic Space Patrol.” So he was a cop. Kenji accepted the offer of handshake. Warm. Strong. Nice. “Kenji.” “Pleased to meet you, Kenji,” Jake Fallon said. “What are you drinking?” Nice accent too. From England. On Earth. A bunch of the guys who came here were from England. Though they had a variety of accents, Kenji had heard this one before with its lightly rolled “r’s.” “Just fizzy water,” he answered finally. He raised his glass, now wishing he’d gotten something stronger. Fizzy water was so…not cool. “It’s not…loaded.” Jake Fallon looked at him a moment. A tiny grin flashed across his nicely curved lips. “I see. Well, I’ll have that too then.” He signaled the bartender, causing the muscles in his back to strain against his T-shirt. Dan came and took his order, leaving Fallon free to turn back to him. Kenji swallowed hard and stared down into the clear, bubbling water in his glass. His heart pounded and he wiped his palms off on his pants. “I’ve…never seen you here before,” he said. And almost slapped his forehead. How lame was that? Sadness flitted through the other man’s blue eyes. “I haven’t been here in a long time.” He sighed just as Dan placed his order in front of him. Fallon lifted his glass, his sad look replaced with a grin. “As we say back in Manchester, cheers,” he said, and clinked it against Kenji’s glass. He watched Fallon take a drink, his head tilted back enough that Kenji could watch the muscles in his throat work as he swallowed. Shifting on his barstool, he hoped the other man couldn’t see the tightening in his c**k, which started to push against his trousers. “You’re from Manchester?” “Yeah, originally. But I’ve been flying through space for so long now I feel more alien than anything else.” He chuckled. “What about you?” Kenji stiffened. Good question. Where was he from? He shrugged. “Around here.” Fallon paused. Then a look slipped into his face, something that said, I understand, you can’t tell me. Lots of fugitives stalked the Terran outposts, secretive about their origins. They provided much lucrative fodder for the bounty hunters who’d proliferated with humankind’s reach into space. “No worries, Kenji. It doesn’t matter.” He remained silent and filled the moment with sipping his drink. “In answer to your comment about not having seen me here before,” Fallon said, “I lost my partner a couple of years ago. A fire at ISP headquarters. This was a place we used to come on our nights off when we were in this sector.” He sighed and took another large sip. “I figured it’s about time to be getting on with things.” That must be the sadness he’d seen in Fallon’s eyes. Whoever the dead man was, Fallon must have really loved him to have stayed away for so long. His fingers tightened on his own glass. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. Fallon nodded. “Thanks, Kenji.” He sipped his drink, eyeing Kenji with a thoughtful expression. “May I ask you a personal question?” Kenji’s heart thumped, but he shrugged, trying to appear casual. He didn’t know what else to do in his first real conversation with someone he was attracted to. “Sure.” The other man tilted his head. “You seem…different from the usual patrons here. You’re more, um, refined. Are you…” he gestured toward one of the hustlers on the other side of the bar, a guy named Pieter. Kenji blinked. “You mean a…hustler?” Fallon grimaced. “Sorry. That was rude of me. I’m so out of practice.” Kenji smiled. No insult there. The hustlers were more refined looking for the most part. It was the contrast between them and their roughneck clients that got them paid. “No. I’m a bartender here. For the last few months.” He glanced down into his drink before continuing. “I usually leave after my shift, but I tonight I…was in the mood to hang around.” Fallon leaned a bit closer, bringing that great scent with him. The energy of his maleness so close sent shivers through Kenji’s body, all the way to his toes. “I’m glad you waited, Kenji. I wouldn’t have met you, had you left.” Kenji looked up. Again, Fallon was so close, their lips were mere inches away. Kenji caught himself tilting in closer. “Jake Fallon, hey!” Kenji jerked away. Bud had returned from the back room and now stood right behind Fallon, thumping him on the back in a rough greeting. “Hi, Bud. Long time.” Fallon swiveled on his stool and offered the other man his hand. Bud pumped Fallon’s hand and gripped his shoulder with his other hand. “Good to see you, man! Where ya been?” Before Fallon could answer, Bud turned a bemused look to Kenji then back. “You lucky fuckin’ dog, Fallon! Kenji here doesn’t let anyone within three feet of his fine little body.” He winked in Kenji’s direction. “I should know. I been trying to get him into bed ever since he showed up in this place. He resists me like the plague.” Kenji frowned at him, his cheeks burning. “Behave, Bud.” Bud grinned. “No hard feelings, Kenji. I know you been waiting for the right guy to come along.” He winked at Fallon. “He doesn’t come out and say that. It’s just obvious.” With a final shake of his head, he added, “You are in for a treat. Mm…mmm.” How humiliating. Unbearably so. What would Fallon think of him now? He didn’t want to know. Best to get away. With a quick glance at Fallon, he mumbled, “Well, I gotta go.” Without giving Fallon a chance to react, Kenji slid off the barstool and started to jostle his way through the press of smelly male bodies. But before he got more than two steps away, a large hand closed gently on his shoulder, ushering him around. Until he was pressed lightly up against Fallon’s broad front. The corner of Fallon’s lips turned up in a sexy way. “Slow down, mate.” His blue eyes searched Kenji’s, as if trying to read his thoughts. “You bothered by what Bud said?” A large hand squeezed his shoulder. “The guy is a bit of a wanker but he means well.” Kenji swallowed, finding it hard to speak for a second. He shook his head, trying to convey his agreement. “Hey, don’t be embarrassed. I can’t think of any bloke who’d want to take him to bed.” Kenji had to chuckle and Fallon’s answering grin made the remaining tension in Kenji’s body relax. The next second Fallon’s grin evaporated and his eyes took on a serious look. “But, uh, if there’s any truth in what Bud said, then I’m flattered.” He squeezed Kenji’s shoulder again, the touch like a warm brand passing right through his thin white shirt and onto his skin. Kenji’s good eyelid fluttered a bit as heat invaded his body. Fallon’s hand moved from Kenji’s shoulder to his chin, chucking it. “So, do you like me enough to get out of here together?” Yes. Had anyone else asked the question, it would have been an automatic no. Kenji nodded before he could lose his nerve. Something about Fallon made him feel…safe. Fallon smiled. “Great. I know a place we can go.” His hand moved down the length of Kenji’s arm and grasped his hand. Before Kenji could second guess his assent, Fallon was leading him through the crowd, his brawn pushing through the bodies more easily than Kenji ever could have. A few moments for Fallon to retrieve his weapon from the check by the door, then, “I know where we can—uh--get a room.” He led Kenji out the door, into the still Terran air. But then he hesitated. “I know it’s…fast.” For a moment he seemed almost shy. “That is, if you still want to.” Kenji gave his hand a small squeeze. “I want to.” Fallon nodded, seeming relieved. “Good.” He gestured with the hand that still held Kenji’s. “It’s just a couple blocks away in that direction.” For several moments they walked in silence, their joined hands just swinging slightly. “Strange as it may sound, Kenji, I don’t make a habit of picking blokes up and taking them to a room.” Fallon grinned across at him. “I don’t expect you to believe me, either. You probably hear that kind of line all the time.” Kenji’s heart flipped over. “No—I don’t. I mean, I do, but I—I believe you.” Not that it mattered. ISP agents came and went. They had a few hours’ leisure time and were gone again, working in the deep reaches of space. Fallon stared hard at him a second then gave a quick nod. “I’m glad.” A moment later he stopped in front of a decrepit brick building. Kenji recognized the kind of three-story structure used for one-night flops in this sector. A flashing neon sign lit Fallon’s skin on and off blue, like his eyes. “This is it,” Fallon said and pushed open a creaky door, still without letting go of Kenji’s hand, which Kenji found oddly comforting. “Not a fancy place, I regret, but affordable with a hot shower.” “It’s fine.” Kenji smiled at him though his heart continued to pound. So many times he’d imagined doing this with someone and never had. Now he really was… At Fallon’s insistence, Kenji waited for him in the vestibule while Fallon went to rent the room and get the key from a tired-looking desk clerk with a tobacco stick hanging from between his lips. The man handed him a pile of towels. When Fallon returned, Kenji offered to carry them then followed Fallon up a flight of dimly lit stairs. The place didn’t seem any different really than his apartment house. Except for the various moans and groans emanating from behind some of the closed doors they passed. Kenji stared at them, thinking of what was transpiring behind them. Things he and Fallon would probably be doing in just a few minutes— “Here we are, Kenji.” Fallon stopped in front of one door which unlocked and held open, gesturing with a flourish and a smile. “Not the Terran Towers, but the sheets should be clean.” With a swallow, Kenji stepped over the threshold into the dark room. Fallon closed the door behind them and flipped on a light switch. “Let me take those,” he said, retrieving the towels from Kenji and setting them on a nearby table. He slipped off his weapons holster and set it on the table next to the towels. “You want a drink?” He opened the door to a small cooler. “Well stocked, I see.” Kenji figured they charged for the drinks, and he wasn’t thirsty anyway. Just nervous. “No, thanks.” Fallon closed the small door and came over to him. Those large hands covered his shoulders and began gently massaging them. Kenji felt himself tremble at the warm contact. As far as he knew, no one had touched him even this much. Fallon’s blue eyes simmered down into his. “Seems we both have our reasons for the rush,” he said softly. Kenji couldn’t answer. His heart pounded so hard and his mind was so muddled, he could only stare into the other man’s rugged face. Without thinking, he reached up and placed his hand, palm down, on the left side of Fallon’s chest. Rock hard muscle quivered under his touch. Just underneath, he felt the beat of Fallon’s heart. “May I ask you another personal question, Kenji?” Fallon’s voice was lower now, huskier. Yet uncertainty tainted the blue of his eyes. “Sure.” His voice came out sounding anything but sure. “If what Bud said was true, then why me? Why now?” Fallon’s large hands continued their sensuous kneading, causing Kenji to relax and become almost drowsy. Kenji didn’t answer right away. He couldn’t. No words formed in his mind. For several moments, he let his hand roam across Fallon’s chest, over the furrow between his pectoral muscles to the other side, even as he felt himself mesmerized by the motion of Fallon’s fingertips on his shoulders. His breathing deepened and slowed. There was just something about Fallon, something…good. Something that reminded him of his recurring vision. The falling and being caught. The steady sure voice telling him he was safe. He couldn’t quite identify what it was or how he knew. He just did. His body knew it, too, felt it deep down. “It’s just you,” he said finally. “It’s just—“ he shrugged helplessly. Fallon’s fingertips tilted his chin up a bit. His eyes were dark now, hungry, yet the hint of sadness remained. “I understand. I feel it too.” He leaned in and closed his lips over Kenji’s. Wow. Nothing had prepared him for something this incredible. And this was only a soft touching of lips. What else was in store for him tonight? Fallon’s lips took their time exploring his. Back and forth they went, rubbing against Kenji’s until they parted and a soft moan escaped. Kenji’s eyelids fluttered closed. His body leaned into Fallon’s as his legs found it harder to support him. Or was Fallon pulling him closer? Fallon’s hands tightened on his shoulders. Their chests pressed together, Fallon’s a bit higher because he was taller. Fallon groaned and slipped his tongue between Kenji’s lips. The sensation was strange, raw, hot and wet. Flavors and textures Kenji couldn’t have imagined before now flooded him. Another human being’s lips against his. Fallon’s tongue dancing with his. Fallon’s scent filling his nostrils, seeping inside of him they were standing so close. Fallon’s hands slid around to his back, rubbing in wider, more feverish rounds. Their kiss became a wild chafing of lips and tongues until Fallon pulled away, eyelids low, back heaving. “Kenji, you are luscious,” he breathed, then moved in again and closed his lips against the side of Kenji’s neck. The warm feathering of Fallon’s tongue sent jolts of heat right to Kenji’s c**k. He tilted his head to the side, receiving a more fervent tongue massage in response. Indeed, Fallon seemed to be devouring him, as if the mere feel and taste of his skin drove him wild. Kenji felt his shirt being lifted from his trousers, followed by bare hands against his back muscles. Wow, he thought again, his body swept up in a possessive tide. One of Fallon’s hands slid around to his chest. Fingertips brushed his n****e, sending zings of heat down to his groin. Fallon kissed every inch of his neck, over and over, returning to the places he’d just moistened with hot kisses as if he couldn’t get enough, even as his thumb and forefinger rubbed and pinched Kenji’s n****e, until Kenji stood on his tiptoes, wanting more. When Fallon pulled back again, he yanked Kenji’s t-shirt all the way over his head, forcing his arms to lift. The next second, he was bare-chested, the t-shirt tossed on the floor. Kenji shivered slightly, his instinct causing him to wrap his arms about his torso. “Cold?” Kenji shook his head. Fallon grinned at him. “I see. Your first time, eh?” I don’t know. But it sure felt like the first. At least the first in his memory. That counted, right? Slowly he nodded. “Ah. Don’t worry then, I know well enough what to do.” Fallon pulled off his own shirt, threw it aside and reached out for Kenji’s arms again. Kenji stared at Fallon’s bare chest, his mind melting into a warm mush, his vision blurring. The guy’s chest was broad, hard, and dusted in the upper portion between his n*****s with soft black hair. And oh, those n*****s. Tawny, flat disks that made Kenji want to pinch and play with them. Was that what he should do, though? “I know you’re new at this.” Fallon wrapped his brawny arms around him and whispered in his ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll guide you.” Kenji jumped. His hands tightened on Fallon’s back muscles. Fallon stilled then pulled slightly away. “Kenji, what is it? Did I do something bad?” Kenji stared up at him, captured by the blue of Fallon’s eyes. So much like the sky. “No,” he murmured finally. “It’s all right.” Fallon smoothed back Kenji’s hair, his face relieved. “Good. I wouldn’t want to frighten you.” “You didn’t.” Fallon’s caress on Kenji’s hair made him melt again. He became aware of Fallon’s hard back muscles under his hands. The awareness grew, spread through his body, into his c**k. Fallon’s lids lowered. He leaned in and nuzzled the side of Kenji’s neck again. Kenji sighed and tilted his head back. The sensation of falling took him over again and he sagged in Fallon’s arms, held firmly in place. Then they were moving. Kenji felt as if his world were tilting this way and that. Something soft met his back then he found himself lying on the bed, Fallon’s body over his, pushing him down into the mattress. Fallon gulped at Kenji’s lips and tongue greedily, one hand smoothing back his hair, a caress that contrasted strangely with the hunger of their kisses. Fallon’s hips moved against his in a short, rhythmic pulse that made Kenji’s whole body weak. The hard bulge of Fallon’s c**k against his…oh, another sensation he couldn’t ever have imagined. He’d thought of it so many times, dreamed of it while rubbing himself to release these past months, discovering what his body could do. But the reality? Beyond words. All he could was clutch Fallon’s back and hold on. Fallon’s hand slipped between them and worked open his own belt, then Kenji’s. Kenji grew aware that they both still wore their boots, but Fallon didn’t seem to notice. His lips still over Kenji’s, Fallon was working his pants and underwear down, then working Kenji’s down. The space around them grew hot, the air filled with the scent of two bodies having s*x, a musky, feral scent that evaporated all thought. Something in Kenji slipped away. He answered Fallon’s kisses with equal fervor, then lifted his ass off the bed as much as he could so that Fallon could work his underwear down far enough that their bare c***s could rub together. “Oh, Kenji.” Fallon breathed against his skin. “I’ll try to go slow.” Bending one knee and bracing it on the mattress, Fallon ground their c***s together, a slow even rhythm that pulled a deep breath from Kenji each time. Heaven, he thought, eyes closed, this was absolute heaven. And moved against Fallon, instinctively. “Ahhh.” Fallon groaned and moved faster. “You’re making me crazy, Kenji.” He thrust his hips, over and over, harder and faster, sliding their c***s against one another while his kisses licked deep into Kenji’s mouth. Kenji clutched the other man’s ass cheeks, gripping hard, round globes of muscle that flexed with each thrust. Fallon pulled from their kiss, panting and groaning. “I won’t last…much longer.” Kenji answered by clutching harder, pulling Fallon tighter against him. The absolute bliss his body had wanted all this time flooded him. He couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. Only rub. And then it happened. The unspeakably hot explosion. He saw his climax spurt, felt the spasms grip his body. Fallon saw it too, his eyes darkening yet more, as if the sight made him hungrier. He rubbed against Kenji, several hard, quick strokes before his body stiffened. He groaned, head tilted back, eyes screwed shut. Hot c*m splashed between them, coating Kenji’s chest, splattering his face and neck. Then he collapsed, one hand laced into Kenji’s hair. Kenji lay pressed beneath Fallon’s largeness, unable to move, but not caring. He stared up at the cracks in the ceiling, feeling a smile on his lips, his body drained in the most pleasant way. He slid his hands up to Fallon’s back and rested them there, following the rhythm of Fallon’s breathing. As the moments passed, the rise and fall of the larger man’s breath slowed and grew more regular. The heart beating against his calmed. Finally, Fallon levered himself up onto one elbow, taking off most of his weight from Kenji’s body, though still half-covering it. “Sorry, hope I didn’t crush you.” Kenji smiled lazily. “It’s a good kind of crushed,” he murmured. Fallon’s eyes grew serious. “Kenji, that was incredible.” He nodded. “It was.” “I’m sorry it didn’t last longer. I…it’s been a long time. I was pent up.” “Me, too.” Fallon’s gaze on his, he kissed Kenji softly, his eyes gradually closing. Their lips lingered together, Fallon brushing his lips over Kenji in tiny back and forth movements then lazily slipping his tongue in and tasting him. Finally he lifted away and gazed back down at Kenji. One hand toyed with Kenji’s hair. “You made my first time back great, Kenji. Better than I could ever have imagined.” He touched Kenji’s cheek. “I’ll always be grateful for that.” The look in Fallon’s eyes made Kenji’s heart flip over again. The only word he could use to describe it was…tender. He had to say something in return. It wasn’t right to let Fallon open up that way and not respond. “You, too,” he murmured. “You made it…perfect.” He wanted to say it was his first time, but he didn’t really know and didn’t want to lie. But it had felt like it. If it was his first time, he was glad it had happened with Fallon. A tiny smile played over Fallon’s lips. “That’s good to hear.” He was quiet a few moments, just sifting Kenji’s hair through his fingers and looking down at him. “Will you be here in a month? That’s when I can come back.” Kenji let his hand slide up and touched Fallon’s dark hair. It was soft. So soft. He pushed his fingers through it, burrowing as much as he could into the shortness. “I plan to be here. I’ll save your spot at the bar.” Fallon smiled. He had an incredible smile, and sexy dimples that made a tiny crinkle in each cheek. “Can I call you before that? Do you have a telescreen?” He could use the telescreen at the Matsuotos. It was the one luxury they’d been able to afford and had offered to let him use it if he needed. “I have one I can use.” “I’ll call you if you give me the access number.” “It’s in my pocket.” Fallon’s grin widened. “Good. That’s wonderful. I’ll get it later.” He leaned down and brushed a hot kiss over Kenji’s lips. “In the meantime, I have a few more hours. There’s more we can do, if you want to.” Kenji slid his fingers into Fallon’s hair again, smiled and pulled him down for a kiss. If he was going to wait another whole month for Fallon, he was going to get in as much as possible. “Yeah, I want to.”