Joseph

by Tracy St. John

  “My boy,” Almon groaned. “My delicious, sweet boy.”

  “Please, my Nobek.”

  Tongue swirling on the flared head of Joseph’s manhood. Tracing the ridge. Measuring the length of him before taking him in deep, swallowing him so that the boy yelled his name. The feeling of Joseph quaking beneath him, utterly lost to excitement and helpless to resist, brought violent heat to Almon’s already throbbing dicks. Almon swallowed him again and again, until Joseph’s glassy gaze told him he would deny his Nobek nothing.

  “Turn over. Ass in the air, so I can fuck you.”

  The speed with which the Earther obeyed gave Almon a thrill of pride. Joseph wanted him, was eager for them to join. No hesitation, not any longer. There was no doubt about it; Nesof could not hope to win this boy from him. In that instant, Almon’s ugliest fear was silenced for good.

  Joseph wanted him. Only him.

  The realization made entering the tight, puckered hole of his boy far more than predictable sex. It was a homecoming. As Joseph’s flesh enclosed the Nobek’s, yielding with perfect surrender, Almon was overcome with emotion. This was the moment he’d waited decades for. He was wanted without reservation by someone else, loved in such a manner that Almon was sure Joseph would never look to any other man. The Earther would never leave him behind, alone and hurting, as others had done to him before.

  My love. He’d have shouted the words if he’d not been a Nobek. The sound that escaped his throat would have been a sob, but Nobeks did not cry.

  He wrapped an arm around Joseph’s chest to hold him tight. His cheek pressed against to the curly head. He gripped his lover’s shaft, pumping it in rhythm with the deep thrusts he shoved into his perfect ass. “Always. Forever,” he swore into his gasping boy’s ear. “No one will take you from me.”

  “Never,” Joseph agreed. “I’ll stay with you all my life. I love you, Almon. And I know you love me.”

  Almon closed his eyes. He smiled and made love to his clanmate. “Thank you for understanding.”

  If he could have remained where he was forever, Joseph would have sobbed with joy. Blanketed under Almon’s weight, the Nobek riding him steadily, his fist working his length—yes, the physical aspect was incredible. And Joseph’s need to climax would soon override this glorious twinkling of perfect sharing. But what he floated in was an absolute contentment of love, love, love. Security. Safety. In his Nobek’s arms, nobody else could touch him. He was where he belonged. He knew it for a fact.

  That was why he’d declared his feelings and announced Almon’s on the Nobek’s behalf. He wanted Almon to understand that he was in for the duration. And he thought Almon needed to hear that Joseph understood he was adored in return, that the Nobek had shown him the depth of his feelings beyond a shadow of a doubt.

  For a few minutes, Joseph was able to bask in the acknowledgment. In recognizing that what they had was real and eternal. In the seconds before brute lust decided to make itself impossible to ignore, he floated in euphoria no Kalquorian bite could match.

  I love Almon. He’s what I didn’t dare dream possible for myself.

  Bald, visceral hunger for sexual release, stampeding through moments later, couldn’t erase the sweet magic of that absolute realization. Impossible adoration could be had after all. While Almon shoved against him and Joseph rammed back, as they grunted in mutual effort, while the chase for gratification made them use each other harshly, the achievement of love sparkled in the background, waiting only for physical demands to expend themselves so it could return to the front of the stage.

  Meanwhile, Joseph was acutely aware of the heavy thuds of Almon’s groin pounding his ass, of the hand clenched on his manhood, forcing passion to race through it. He shrieked as ecstasy jetted from him in harsh bursts and shoved his face into the cushion to bite it in his frenzy.

  Almon strained, his cock jolting in tandem with Joseph’s, pouring into him. Becoming a part of him as no other man would, because no other man was welcome to. No other could possibly measure up to the Nobek Joseph called his clanmate.

  * * * *

  Nesof sat on a bench outside of the conservation nature walk area on Ehom Mountain’s mid-tier living level, watching Nobek Almon’s apartment door. Passersby hurried home from their jobs, not noticing him in their eagerness to relax for the evening. The rush was beginning to slacken, but it was still busy enough to make Nesof invisible, another featureless face in the crowd.

  He was sufficiently comfortable in his anonymity to scowl as the minutes passed since Almon’s return. As more time elapsed, his impatience was joined by confusion.

  Why hadn’t Almon stormed out in search of him? Surely Joseph must have opened the package in his presence. They couldn’t question who’d sent it. What kind of Nobek was Almon to not be enraged and seeking a confrontation with him?

  Almon was jealous. Nesof had seen it during their previous encounters, and most definitely when he’d tried to convince Joseph to go to the concert with him. And his rival had every reason to feel resentful. Nesof had a nicer home, a fancier shuttle, finer tastes, and plenty of money socked in savings, thanks to his elder brother’s lengthy and devastating decline in Nesof’s care. Nesof could offer Joseph far more than Almon was capable of.

  By all rights, the Earther should belong to Nesof. The orderly wasn’t about to let Joseph slip through his fingers, not to an unsophisticated brute like Almon. The pretty ex-captain was the first of Nesof’s sexual interests he’d had the chance to keep.

  In the beginning, the fact that Nesof’s first pets were never leaving the facilities they were housed in had seemed advantageous. They were too damaged, too sick to be released, so Nesof had enjoyed knowing he’d be able to keep them close, where he could maintain watch over them. He could indulge himself with them at his leisure.

  Unfortunately, it required a lot of caution to maintain his hold on his darlings, so his enjoyment of them wouldn’t be found out. In the end, it always proved to be too difficult to continue those relationships. First Clard had killed himself, proving he could escape Nesof as he’d sworn he would. That would have been the Nobek’s undoing, had he not been the staff member to discover Clard’s body and the note he’d left behind, detailing their special encounters as “assaults” and “rapes”. Nesof had destroyed the note, and no one had been the wiser. Poor, confused Clard, who couldn’t admit how he cherished Nesof’s attentions, how perfect they were together.

  Unak had been better, at least for a while. He embraced their relationship, though his obsessive issues had brought him to the mistaken conclusion that Nesof would be able to take him from the psych unit. It was too bad he’d started saying all the wrong things, forcing them permanently apart. After Clard, Unak’s eager acceptance of Nesof’s attentions had been a delight. It truly had been a shame to end it with him.

  Sert had been as reluctant to admit his desire for Nesof as Clard, but at the beginning of their relationship, he’d been easier to work with. Often kept in restraints due to his penchant for self-harm, Sert had had no choice but to surrender to Nesof’s determination to establish their bond. Perhaps Nesof had given up on him too easily, however. But what else could the orderly have done when Sert had begun raving those terrible accusations? With a couple of former clandestine relationships ending poorly, Nesof had been forced to move on yet again before anyone got it into their heads to suspect him of a patient’s seduction.

  He’d at last realized the day had come to groom a pet he could eventually take home with him. Psychiatric facilities were indeed an excellent place to find a lover who needed a strong Nobek such as himself and to start them on the road to a happy relationship. Yet for it to last, they’d have to recover enough to be discharged.

  The moment Nesof had laid eyes on Joseph, his hopes for such a scenario had soared. The Earther was not only exceptional in the looks department, but his smaller stature and how he cringed when approached had given Nesof the encouragement to check into the former captain’s files. H
e had high hopes, given Joseph’s criminal past—the young man would be desperate to make a friend who could forgive his misdeeds. Nesof could have wept with delight when he also discovered Joseph tended to be subservient to those who held authority over him. As his orderly, Nesof held such power.

  Over the past two years, Nesof had devoted himself to becoming Joseph’s friend and confidant. He was more careful with this charge than he had been in the past, not rushing into the sexual aspects of their relationship. That could come later, when Joseph went home with Nesof at the end of his recovery. Joseph’s greatest gift to Nesof had been that of learning anticipation for the day when the orderly would bare the Earther’s trembling body and introduce him to the pleasures the Nobek wished to give.

  That pain in the ass Almon had been there from the start, showing up for every visitation day, but Nesof had been sure the gruff Nobek would lose interest eventually. Certainly, Joseph couldn’t believe such a failure of a warrior to be interesting—after all, he’d taken the man prisoner himself. And Joseph was aware of what a weak, pitiful Earther he was. He should have decided Almon too pathetic to be borne.

  Too pathetic, in fact, to challenge me after I blatantly ignored his warning to leave Joseph alone. How does he call himself a Nobek, anyhow?

  Almon was unpredictable in his cowardice. Was he taking solace in Joseph’s inability to buck perceived authority, capitalizing on the Earther’s mistake in thinking he should do as Almon told him?

  Or maybe it wasn’t that the other Nobek was as afraid of Nesof as he should have been. Perhaps he was aware of the machinations Nesof attempted to trip him up through. Maybe he fancied himself smarter than Joseph’s true protector.

  Nesof realized he needed to rethink the situation. He would have to carefully consider his next move. Whatever tactic he employed to lure Joseph from his rival or remove Almon from the competition, it would have to be better than what he’d attempted so far.

  Nesof was confident he’d figure it out. He had to. Joseph was meant to be his, and all that mattered was getting what belonged to him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The following two weeks were the best Joseph had enjoyed in his entire life. True, much of the time he was stuck at the apartment. However, with no sign of Nesof and no further unwanted gifts, he and Almon had begun to hope the orderly had given up his pursuit.

  The week after the hateful package was delivered to the door, Almon came home with a package of his own. The muscled Nobek was adorable, in Joseph’s unspoken opinion, with nervous anticipation as the Earther opened up the parcel that had been clumsily wrapped, no doubt by Almon himself. When Joseph saw a second copy of Pirate Island, equally tattered as the first, he was overcome.

  “You said Nesof ruined it for you, but I thought maybe—” Almon gestured helplessly, not knowing how to respond to the silent tears rolling down Joseph’s cheeks. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have replaced it.”

  “It’s wonderful. You rescued a dear childhood friend that the bastard ripped from me.” Joseph hugged the gift, then he hugged Almon.

  The Nobek heaved a sigh of relief. “Good. You certainly adore that book,” he noted as Joseph knuckled tears away.

  “What I love is you doing this for me. That you went to the lengths you did to fix this, because you care.” Joseph caressed the cover. His memories of rainy summer afternoons reading and living in the fictional world had been more than restored—he now had a more profound reason to treasure the book.

  Each day was more of small but sincere gestures from his lover. Almon never failed to admonish Joseph to be careful even with Nesof’s continued absence. He commed several times a day to check in, sharing amusing anecdotes of his gregarious and gossipy boss. Some afternoons, he showed up unannounced to surprise Joseph by taking him out to Ibmul’s for lunch. Not an evening went by when he didn’t ask Joseph how his writing was progressing, and he listened with focused attention while Joseph read some of the articles he’d written.

  When possible, Almon personally escorted Joseph to his appointments with Dr. Adna and the support group. When he couldn’t get free from work, he rented a private shuttle and an armed pilot from a security service. And though Joseph had learned Almon earned a decent amount of money—“Better than an orderly,” Almon had snorted—the security service detail was a hefty expense. But Almon insisted it was more than worth it for his peace of mind.

  “I could reschedule my meetings with Dr. Adna. And stop attending group until we know for sure Nesof is out of the picture,” Joseph had pointed out.

  “Only to some extent, and you’re already sacrificing too much because of that asshole. Nesof has smashed a big enough dent in our lives. You’ll keep your appointments with your therapist and group, so you can have some normalcy.”

  It was hard hiding what he knew of Nesof with Dr. Adna, but Joseph was all too aware of the trouble Almon and Dors would be in if it came out they’d broken into protected records. He merely told Adna that another Nobek had shown an unwanted attraction to him and the authorities had gotten involved.

  Meanwhile, his support group was quickly becoming a tight circle of trusted confidantes. Solomon’s Imdiko was an editor of a sports publication, and he had contacts throughout electronic media. He’d mention to Solomon that an editor friend of his was helming a new journal-type e-zine that was searching for special interest stories from all walks of life. “They may be open to some of the stuff you’ve written,” Solomon told Joseph. “I’ve got all the contact information if you want to submit a piece.”

  Joseph was writing quite a bit lately, and after perusing the e-zine guidelines, he believed he might indeed have a few stories the publication would consider. The idea of it excited him.

  All aspects of his existence were a delight lately. Particularly his relationship with Almon. Joseph thought he’d loved the Nobek before, but his feelings grew stronger with every passing second. It reached the point where he questioned, how huge could love be? Did it even have boundaries?

  * * * *

  Almon stifled a sigh and attempted to appear content to be at a restaurant with his boss, his boss’s aide, and his boss’s client. That it was the highlight of his existence to sit at a table like a lasgo worm.

  Guherf’s target for a big sell was Imdiko Dejo, who owned no less than a hundred huge farms in the territory. He’d acquired half of those farmlands in the last two months, and the equipment that came with them was terribly obsolete. The situation could result in a major moneymaker for Guherf, if he pulled off the deal to update those farms.

  Almon was sitting at the table, about to eat and drink as an aide and not a bodyguard, because it made Dejo uncomfortable to have a meal in front of others besides the restaurant’s employees. It made no difference that Almon’s job was to stand and guard his employer. The instant it had become clear to Dejo that Almon had no intention of sitting around like a dinner guest, he’d been ready to walk away from the meeting. “I’m sorry, Guherf, but it’s wrong for us to be shoveling food in our mouths, making Nobek Almon watch.”

  “I’ll eat afterward when my employer is safe in his office once more.” Almon had done his best to reassure him.

  “No, Dejo is right, of course. Sit down, Almon. Enjoy yourself.” Guherf had been merry about the notion, as he was cheerful about most experiences that came along.

  Though it was on the tip of the Nobek’s tongue to point out he’d do a better job remaining alert, he knew not to argue with the Dramok who paid his salary. Not when a massive sale was on the line. Reminding himself that Guherf had no actual enemies to be guarded against, Almon sat.

  He soothed his conscience with the idea that this was an elegant establishment to eat in, and he had the chance to try out the food. If it was decent, he might surprise Joseph with a fancy dinner on the anniversary of the day they met or some other special occasion.

  They ordered their food and drinks. Afterward, Almon tried to appear interested in the conversation in which Dejo descri
bed his negotiations for the farms he’d just purchased, coming up shy of bragging about the terrific deal he’d brokered despite the poor state of the equipment he was stuck with. Maybe he had struck a great transaction as far as the land was concerned. Almon had no clue. But he took his cue from Guherf and Tilm’s positive reactions to nod in pretended appreciation. He did not want to be the reason Guherf failed to close a lucrative contract.

  The restaurant was doing a lively business despite the hour. From the bustling atmosphere, Almon decided it was a place where a lot of businessmen preferred to make deals and schmooze clients. He hated sitting on his ass, where it was harder to see all that was going on. It made pretending to be fascinated with Dejo’s story while keeping an eye on other diners challenging.

  No, Guherf was almost definitely in no danger. But Almon took pride in doing his job, and unneeded or not, he would do it to the utmost of his ability.

  When he spied a familiar face flashing in the crowd at the other end of the dimly-lit dining room, he was glad he’d been so attentive. It had only been a quick glance, but Almon was almost sure he’d seen Nobek Nesof. Hadn’t he? The next second, Almon doubted that glimpse. It made little sense that a psychiatric center’s orderly would be in a restaurant such as this, where businessmen were wheeling and dealing with an eye toward their next big score.

  It’s his day off. That knowledge was based on the time Joseph had spent in the institution and Almon’s research in the past few weeks. It’s possible he’s here. Spying on me?