Arrival

by Michelle Robbins

  He was Liam!

  He turned forward again, cock-proud and naked. The audience milled and surged but kept a respectful distance. Had the mind-speak between him and Dylan indicated some kind of agreement?

  Or had Mike… But no, Mike had already decided. It was time to move on. There was no other choice.

  Sometimes a guy could do nothing else but go for it.

  He stepped out of the crumpled mass of his fatigue pants and skivvies at his ankles, moved into position and seized the handlebars. They tightened against his palms, a sensation he hadn’t expected. Trapped? Helpless? No.

  Powerful. So powerful.

  A white light blazed across the area in a sheet of energy. The spectators winced and squinted, some shielding their eyes with an upraised hand. Surprise traveled across the mind-link from the many to Liam.

  Well, the doctor had said I was unusually powerful.

  He lifted his eyebrows and delivered a glance to Dylan that he hoped was challenging but not arrogant. He was who he was. Liam would never be anybody’s doormat. Did Dylan have what it took to be Liam’s adnama?

  Dylan made a sound that resembled a growl and tore off his shirt. Sweat beaded the skin of his well-muscled chest in drops of moisture and pheromone that sparkled in the late afternoon light.

  The scent of peach bloomed, like taking the first step into an orchard.

  The sergeant didn’t bother with the stairs. He landed on the platform after an athletic bound from the ground. Liam shuddered at the ravening hunger that emanated from Dylan.

  The guy was on fire.

  Dylan moved closer, more a prowl than a walk. Intensity carved his face. Those gorgeous alien eyes darkened as his pupils dilated. His unusual scent swirled between them.

  Liam inhaled. Every muscle in his body tightened. Not Mike’s, no, but satisfying. Delightful. He could—no, would— learn to forget and accept this instead of Mike’s delicious blend.

  ::There’s no need to forget. ::

  Dylan’s thought moved though his mind the same time he laid hands on Liam’s naked chest. Those hands slid down across the ribbed stomach like a feathered fan of fire. Liam’s breath hitched in his chest, which caused his stomach muscles to jerk. His blood surged and his cock lengthened another inch. His ball sac tightened, as though an invisible hand cupped, rolled, and lifted the delicate spheres.

  He dropped his head backward and gasped. ::Ah, God… How did you do that?::

  Dylan licked his tongue down the cable of Liam’s neck to the sensitive hollow of his collarbone. There he nipped. He chose not to answer the question, but instead continued his previous discussion.

  ::We are the sum of all we’ve experienced, Liam, of all we’ve been through. There’s no shame in any steps taken on our journey.::

  ::Even if it hurts?::

  A wealth of compassion filled Dylan’s mental tone. :: Growth is always painful. It’s what we learn from the experience that makes the pain worthwhile.::

  And just that fast, Liam wanted to cry. Oh, God, Dylan understood.

  ::Of course, I’m right here. Our minds are linked, are they not?::

  This mind-link would take some getting used to, but he would think about that later. Right now, though, what caught his interest most was what felt like a rock-hard, fabric-covered cock pushed into the split of his ass cheeks.

  Liam arched against the touch, a sound like a purr rolling from his chest and out his mouth. That plank felt like it would hit all his needful places.

  Gasps of shock heralded a shift. The audience stilled. Visible eyes widened, as though startled by something.

  An animal roar split the air. Christ, he’d heard that before.

  Right?

  The comforting warmth of Dylan was ripped from his back.

  Moments later, Dylan’s body arched past him on an airborne journey off the platform.

  Spectators shifted, and Dylan landed in the dirt. He rolled to his feet and turned to face the platform. The expression on his face wasn’t a happy one.

  What the fuck?

  Cinnamon and musk bloomed around Liam. It blanketed him.

  He knew that scent as easily as he knew that roar. Yes, he’d heard the roar before. Mike.

  ::Who disputes?::

  Liam wasn’t sure if he heard the challenge with his ears or his mind, but the primitive, caveman-esque flavor words were easy to understand.

  In another stomach-churning shift of emotion, Liam was pissed. Righteously pissed. Fucker! The “If I can’t have you, no one will” game? Bullshit!

  He tried to drop his hands, only to discover an unpleasant reality. The handlebars had adhered to his skin. He shook his hands, but nothing happened, other than the metal sang a protest.

  He jerked his hands…then jerked harder when the bars went with his hands instead of separating. His next gambit was to lunge backward in an attempt to use his weight and inertia to force his hands free. That’s when he bounced against a rock-solid frame.

  Micro lightning zapped along the pathways of his skin. He knew that body. He would know this body and the Urilqii it belonged to even if he was dead.

  “Liam.” It was said in Mike’s soothing voice. It offered a moment of calm, a moment of peace.

  Liam shrugged it away. It was a lie .

  Behind him, Mike gave a quiet grunt. Of surprise?

  “Fuck you,” Liam snapped. “You said no. You closed that window. Twice.”

  He battled again with the handlebars and, again, lost. The damned things were stuck tight. Liam gave a final yank, more to demonstrate his temper than with any hopes of forcing his release.

  The tethers sang, a bright harmony to the low murmurs of voices.

  Pissed, Liam glanced over his shoulder. Mike stood there, shirt off, a magnificent display of muscles, tattoo, and intensity.

  While his face could have been carved of stone, what Liam saw cooled his temper. He saw the truth of Mike, hidden from many, hidden from, perhaps, himself.

  He saw fear.

  Suddenly, it all made tragic sense. The lack of participation in the festival at their first meeting, the constant yo-yoing of his interest, the silence between them since Liam’s full immersion, the “closed window” thing, the situation happening now.

  They all spoke of one thing. They spoke of grief. Mike had been badly hurt and didn’t want to be hurt again. In fact, he was doing everything he knew how to do in order to protect himself emotionally.

  Steve’s words whispered through his memory. He needs you more than he will ever admit.

  Liam’s heart turned over inside his chest and broke wide open with a tidal wave of compassion, grief, and the urge to somehow heal Mike’s pain.

  ::Ah, babe. What happened?::

  Mike gave no answer, other than to move against Liam, and the contact flashed across his awareness like a thunderbolt. He heard his own voice in a raw cry of pleasure. Heat, fire, intensity, a slam of pressure, all was there in an instant.

  All so fucking good. Liam stumbled slightly as Mike used his gorgeous body to urge him back to his former position on the platform Liam saw Dylan in the crowd. The guy smiled. No sour grapes? But why would there be? The cabal was a blend of empathic hearts.

  Mike wrapped his arms around him from behind and licked the small curve of his trapezius muscle at the nape of his neck. Liam shuddered from the pleasure. He tightened his grip on the handlebars.

  The light from the platform’s machine blazed an impossible white.

  Mike didn’t take hold of the handlebars. Instead, he took hold of Liam’s forearm and wrapped his other hand around Liam’s cock. A tornado of sensation swirled around Liam. He closed his eyes and embraced the storm.

  Lights danced behind his closed eyes, like the dance of a sparkler through the air. Without a second thought, he arched his hips forward and pushed into the luscious grip of Mike’s hand.

  The wordless request was understood and answered.

  Mike pumped his cock, a slow and languid journe
y from glans to cock base and back again. “Liam…”

  The scent in the air…mind spinning…lush and gorgeous, like Mike…all Mike. Liam pried open his eyes and fixed his gaze on Mike’s hand as it stroked his cock.

  A tiny spill of pre-cum leaked from the small slit at the top.

  Mike passed an open palm across the cock tip, glazing it with the translucent cream and sent his hand down the shaft again.

  ::Yes…yes…::

  Mike released Liam’s forearm and reached for his handhold on the top set, but paused. He hesitated, dropped his hand away from the grip and hugged Liam with that same arm.

  It wasn’t Liam who shuddered; it was Mike. He pressed against Liam’s ass, rocking that thick rod between Liam’s ass cheeks, starting a tempo that teased and tempted the sensitive portal there.

  Liam’s mind swam. ::So good. So good. So— Wait! You hurt me!::

  Regret splashed through him, and he knew it was Mike’s.

  Hard on the heels of that, an image flickered through his mind.

  A face, inside a space helmet, a cracked helmet, air pressure minimizing, the face—beloved adnama— mouthing words. “Live for me.”

  A desperate, futile prayer for someone to save his adnama followed. Heartbreak and loss. Pain. So much pain. Liam’s throat closed around a hard knot of unshed tears.

  ::Ah, babe.::

  Mike’s voice was a whisper in his ear. “Forgive me?”

  Was there really any other choice? He rolled his head back and rested it on Mike’s shoulder, baring his throat and his heart to God and everybody on this planet.

  ::Yes.::

  This time, there was no hesitation. Mike flicked his hand from Liam’s waist and clamped it around the handlebar. A rainbow of lights erupted, in colors impossible to describe.

  Shocking blues, bleeding reds, a violet deeper than the night sky. The white of his touch transformed into a gold so brilliant he carried the after-image in his eyes when he blinked from the intensity.

  The Urilqii howled their delight.

  They surged into motion and danced.

  With just one touch, Mike had made all those changes?

  ::We did it. Together.::

  * * *

  Now it was time to complete the ritual. Now was time to ensure that he and Liam would know each other at a precious, permanent cellular and emotional level. And yes, he wanted it. Mike wanted Liam with a desperate fire.

  The machine didn’t lie, and now everyone knew it.

  Now Liam knew it. He might not understand the machine yet, but he did understand Mike. Their bodies knew how to communicate even when Mike, dipstick that he was, refused the reality in front of his nose.

  Live for me.

  Yes. All the way. No more hiding. No more cowardice.

  The handgrips released Mike’s palms and dropped from Liam’s hands in the same moment. The bonding had been logged, registered, and made very, very public. There was no way back, not that Mike wanted to go back. He wanted to go forward into the future with Liam. All the way.

  There was only one more step to take. Fortunately, it was a pleasant one.

  On the ground around their platform, the Urilqii danced and sang.

  “Get on your knees,” said Mike.

  “Dream on,” said Liam, with a laugh that challenged.

  Defiant little shit, thought Mike. No worries. He went to work on his pants fastenings. It wasn’t easy to force open the seam with the rod of raging meat that was hard enough to drive nails, but he managed with minimal pinches to his sensitive skin.

  Liam hadn’t knelt. In fact, he stood there with legs braced and arms crossed over his chest and offered his back to Mike.

  A smile tugged on his mouth, and Mike went to his own knees behind Liam, all the while admiring the slope of the spine, the trim waist, and the curve of that apple-shaped ass.

  He licked one buttock, nipped, then licked again. In perfect echo to Mike’s actions, Liam shivered, gasped, then shivered again. But he didn’t kneel.

  So be it.

  Mike cupped that luscious ass, lifted and parted the cheeks, and applied his tongue to the sensitive rosette revealed. He licked, laved, and teased the portal to Liam’s body with sensual abandon.

  He rode the delicious chaos of Liam’s responses like a storm surfer, using every curve and twist and shift of Liam’s body to his advantage and coax forth maximum sensation.

  The slick sound of his tongue against Liam filled the area. The Urilqii had stopped their dance, faced the platform, and pushed closer. They devoured, with delight, the waves of sexual pleasure Liam conveyed. The scent of his people’s sexual excitement bloomed around them like a spice shed filled with herbs.

  Sweat dappled Liam’s skin by the time Mike paused. He’d bent over at the waist and rested on his fingertips on the wooden platform to better offer himself to Mike’s tongue and had opened his legs to better facilitate the experience.

  With his back level, his ass cheeks wide and unashamedly humping Mike’s tongue, Liam showed no shame. The audience only heightened his excitement. Energy and hunger hummed with each gasp and moan.

  Mike applied his palm to the curve of Liam’s delicious buttocks. The sharp sound cracked across the courtyard’s stillness.

  Liam froze in place, his breath a hiccup. His body and mind vibrated with contained intensity…the same intensity echoed by the watching Urilqii.

  “Down,” Mike rasped.

  Mike’s imagination flickered with images of his own wants, Liam in his lap, Liam on his cock, Liam howling his delight as Mike fucked him…fucked him…endlessly fucked him.

  Rebellion splashed between them, which caused Mike to grunt.

  “Ask nicely,” Liam panted.

  His Liam was a spicy twink, one who got off on tugging Mike’s tail feathers. He’d learned that the night they’d met. He’d also learned enough human vernacular to give Liam what he craved.

  Mike sat back onto his heels. His cock bobbed, as if as eager for Liam’s ass as was Mike himself. He pumped his dick and spread his personal lube across the tip and down the shaft. Then Mike patted his thighs.

  “Come and give me a lap dance, sexy.” The hunger in his voice radiated across the spectators. “Let’s show ’em how we burn.”

  Liam’s knees unlocked and he dropped toward Mike’s lap.

  Mike caught him as he plummeted and guided Liam onto a safer angle as he came down. His cock tip kissed the sensitive skin, slickened by spit and lube, then penetrated as the tiny muscles gave way.

  Mike pushed inside.

  Liam arched backward, a high-pitched cry pulled from his throat. Sensation crashed over Mike, like a wave breaking against the shore. He gasped, shocked and knocked off balance.

  A howl rose from their audience.

  Mike cradled Liam’s bucking hips. The muscles bunched and rippled. Liam bounced atop Mike’s cock like a wild man, tearing all sense of control from Mike. He could do nothing other than hold the line as Liam took him and took them higher…and higher…

  As one, they leapt over the edge and into an exquisite oblivion.

  CHAPTER 14

  Liam came awake, warm and comforted. He blinked, slightly startled, and found himself in his own barrack’s bunk. The day’s morning blush peeked into his window and the reveille piped its wake-up call.

  For some reason, he’d thought that… But wait. There was that dream of being placed into his bed by Mike, who leaned over and kissed him before he tucked the blanket beneath Liam’s chin.

  In Mike’s hands, he’d felt comforted, treasured, and so he’d drifted back to sleep. Had that been a dream or a sleepy memory?

  Liam yawned, stretched until his joints cracked, then hauled himself out of his bunk. His rubbery legs trembled for a moment, but the delightful, pleasant strained muscles all over told the story of really, really, really good sex.

  A note had been left on the table on a folded piece of sort-of-paper the Urilquii used for hardcopy. Scrawled in a mascu
line hand were the words, Thank you, Liam, for all that you are.

  Sweet. He knew he reddened, but couldn’t stop smiling anyway.

  Liam took a fast shower in the bathroom down the hall. It was a pleasure to be by himself, but it sort of felt lonely also. He’d grown used to the rough and tumble camaraderie of the barracks.

  They were Liam’s family. New and unexpected, yes, but they’d come to be his family nonetheless. Now, however, there was nothing but empty bunks. So many volunteers had missed out on the adventure of their lives, as well as some really good sex.

  Liam pocketed the note and headed for the mess hall. The barrack’s door snapped closed behind him, and he jogged his way into both his new day and his new reality.

  It seemed he wasn’t the only one in love with the new day.

  Sure, a morning on a military base was what it was. However, laughter and good humor filled the mess hall. He looked around for Mike and didn’t see him. His disappointment ended when he noted that the command table was also empty.

  Apparently, they’d had some shit to do and had dragged Mike along.

  Really? They couldn’t let a guy have breakfast with his new lover? He reminded himself that his lover was the first sergeant.

  He’d probably need to get used to the moments when Mike was called away by the higher echelon.

  The note from Mike rested against his left ass cheek, the ass Mike had well used the night before. It reassured with its very existence. It represented a constant reminder of Mike’s claim on him, as well as Liam’s claim on Mike.

  * * *

  The morning’s breakfast eaten, Liam’s team rode the assigned infantry carrier vehicles to the Alvord Desert, where the tunneling tanks conducted their trials. Except Alvord wasn’t a desert as much as it was a dry lakebed. Also, the infantry vehicles that carried them there weren’t so much an M2116 Striker as they were alien helicopters, minus the blades.

  Liam couldn’t help but notice the relaxation of the troops around him. It was as though the Urilqii had been released from unpleasant bonds and allowed to be themselves. Warm bands of energy stretched between couples that he hadn’t realized were a unit.