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Bonded Ch. 01

By: Carizabeth



For those who've read my other stories, this universe is a lot like Anna's. The setting is sci fi, but it's a love story at heart. I hope you enjoy it.

**

"Rise and shine, darling," a sultry voice purred over the speaker. It was set into the wall right next to Wyl Leyton's pillow, and he groaned as the noise blasted him out of a sound sleep.

"Get thee behind me, Satan," he growled and rolled over, pushing his face into the pillow.

"Religion. How quaint." The voice was quietly amused. "I hope you're not in an insolent mood this morning, Wyl. You know what a chore it is for me to come up with appropriate punishments when you're being insolent."

"Not insolent, just honest," Wyl mumbled from his pillow. There was a long pause from the speaker.

"Are you insulting me?" The voice held none of its earlier amusement now.

"Why would I insult you?" Wyl replied. "You'd just withhold payment on my bond again."

"True." Confidence came back to the voice. "And that's the last thing you want, isn't it dearest? Especially since you're still paying for your last little bout of arrogance. Hmmm...is today the last cold shower?"

"Yes." Wyl sighed and rolled out of bed, wincing as his bare feet hit the icy flooring. "And the last day without socks, either."

"You lucky thing you. If I were you I'd be especially nice to me. You wouldn't want to jeopardize the chance to return to normal living, now would you?"

"Oh no." No, I wouldn't want to jeopardize this fucking hellhole of an existence, Wyl thought angrily as he pulled on his graying cargo pants. He stuck his feet into the boots by the bed and grabbed his fraying shirt, then left his tiny room and headed for the communal shower.

Only one other person got woken up this early, and that was Taylor Paulsen, the bonder who worked as a cook for the rest of the crew. He was already under the warm water, lathered with soap. He saw Wyl enter and cast a sympathetic look his way. "Last day, man."

"Yeah." Wyl sighed. He shook off his boots and pants, placed all his clothes on a nearby bench and stepped up to a nozzle. The scanner attached to the end of the shower identified him and immediately began spraying icy cold water on his chest. Wyl gasped and shuddered for a moment, then grabbed the soap and began scrubbing as fast as he could. "Shit, that's cold."

"It's been three weeks, I think you'd be used to it by now," Taylor observed as he rinsed soap off. "Then again, a skinny thing like you, you don't have any padding to blunt the shock."

"Not like you, you mean." Taylor was an excellent cook, and he had the body of someone who worked out regularly but also loved food. Wyl, on the other hand, ate until he was stuffed but never seemed to gain an ounce. His body was whipcord lean and muscled, and his face was thin to the point of gauntness. He had large brown eyes, constantly ringed these days with dark circles, and his black hair hadn't been cut for months. It fell raggedly around his shoulders, the ends split from continual freezing and thawing on this icy world. He was attractive, or would have been if he didn't look so miserable. Wyl finished his shower as fast as he could and stepped back from the tiles. Fast currents of air assailed him from all directions, air that unfortunately was also cold. After a few more miserable moments of shivering, he was dry. Numb, but dry. He walked gingerly over to where he had set his clothes and sat down. Taylor, sitting a few benches down, cast a concerned eye at the young man.

"Seriously, Wyl, you should just give her what she wants," he advised him. "You know she'd ease up on you if she did."

"Can I help it if I don't like ice cold bitch first thing in the morning?" Wyl growled.

"Well you'd better learn to like it. Or at least fake that you do. Otherwise she'll make your life a living hell until your bond is paid off."

"The last thing I'm going to give that fucking wench is satisfaction." Wyl shook his head. "Not if I can help it. And certainly not in bed."

"Why not? It isn't as though she's hard to look at." Taylor glanced at him more closely. "Or do you prefer boys?"

"Men, T. I prefer men."

"Damn. And she knows it." Taylor couldn't help it; he burst out laughing. Wyl glared at him.

"What the fuck is so funny?"

"Thank the stars I was married before I got shipped to this wasteland. You're the biggest challenge to come along for our little miss wonderbitch in years." His laughter slowly died. "She's never going to give up, Wyl, not until she catches you or breaks you. That's the way she is."

"I'll have my bond paid off in a year. I can wait that long."

"A year of freezing showers, bad clothes and worse weather. It would be easier just to fuck her."

"Yeah, well..." Wyl let his voice trail off. It wasn't that he had something against women in general. He had been with women before, and even though he liked men better, there was something appealing about the smooth lines and softness of a woman's curves pressed against him. But there was nothing appealing about the woman who held his bond.

Danica Jessom was the owner of nearly half of the planet Hazard, which was aptly named. It was a small ball of ice and rock with a barely habitable surface during the warm season, which was to say merely twenty below zero, and an entirely uninhabitable surface during the cold season, which dipped into the negative hundreds. It was also extremely rich in precious stones. The problem was getting at them. There were machines to do the digging, but they broke down all the time in the cold weather and Danica was too cheap to think of replacing them with more weather-suitable versions. She preferred manpower to mechanization anyway, and kept a large workforce on hand to repair machines, sort stones and do the cuttings before sending the shipments off to buyers. Rather than employ regular workers, Danica bought bonds. 

People racked up debts to society in many different ways, and if they had no method of paying them off, they became bonders. The bond was owned by the government of whatever society the person lived in and until it was paid off, they worked the worst jobs the government couldn't get technology to do. This process took a long time, but at least bonders in government service were taken fairly good care of, provided with food, lodging and healthcare. The other option was having the bond bought by a hawk. Hawks were legal slavers of the modern era, buying and trading bonds, providing skilled and unskilled workers to locations all over the universe. Hawks ran the illicit sex trade, the underground fighting tournaments and provided warm bodies for numerous types of cybernetic experimentation.

The various planetary federations tried to control the bond buying trade, taxing all sales severely and installing monitoring chips into each bonder, designed to keep track of sales and bonder location. The databases were flawed, though, updated irregularly and not accurately synched to each other. Bonders went missing, were lost, were forgotten. If a bonder was lucky, the government who sold his bond would check up on the buyer and supervise the repayment of the debt, usually in the interest of bringing a skilled laborer back to the home planet after they'd paid their bill.

Wyl had no idea if his home planet was keeping tabs on his bond, and Danica certainly wasn't about to tell him. She liked to keep her people in the dark. Danica Jessom wasn't traditionally cruel to her bonders. Some people thought she was all right to work for, as long as you kept on her good side. Wyl's trouble was, there was no way for him to keep on her good side. She bought not just the bonds she needed, but also those she simply fancied, and she loved pretty, slender young men. When Wyl had first arrived six months ago she'd been very accommodating, even offering him a room in her own mansion. After he'd found out it was her room she had in mind, he'd declined. She had punished him for that. She had been punishing him ever since.

Something soft hit him in the face, startling Will out of his reverie. He looked down into his lap. It was a pair of socks, rolled into a ball. He glanced over at Taylor, but he was preoccupied with buttoning up his shirt. "Thanks, T."

"Can't have the only mechanic here worth a damn losing his toes to frostbite," Taylor said with a smile. "Get dressed and head to the mess hall. Leesie's started the ovens early today."

"Seriously, is Leesie an insomniac?" Wyl asked.

"She's got a full day and can't stand to cut my meals short." Taylor said with perfect immodesty. He finished pulling his boots on and walked out of the room.

Wyl put on the coarse socks. They were a little big on him, but they were dry and warm. He hastily stepped into the pants, pulled on the shirt and then back into his boots. He flexed his toes and grinned. It was the first time he'd had a layer of padding between his skin and the boots for close to a month. He ran a callused hand through his ragged hair, then sighed and followed Taylor to breakfast.

Taylor had disappeared into the kitchen, but Leesie was there in the mess hall, sitting at one of the long tables sipping a cup of tea. She saw Wyl enter and smiled at him. "Good morning."

"How can you drink that stuff?" Wyl shook his head. 

"Just because it isn't coffee," Leesie mocked him. "Some of us like something with a more delicate flavor, you know. It doesn't have to take the enamel off my teeth to wake me up."

"How you cut gems in a semi-comatose state is beyond me," Wyl replied. Leesie was the best jeweler working for Danica. Taylor had never explained to him how he had Leesie had ended up in debt and Wyl hadn't asked; it was considered an impertinent question among bonders. All he knew was that because of their skills, they were allowed to stay together as a couple. He envied them.

Taylor brought Wyl a large cup of oily blackness that smelled divine. "That's almost pure caffeine, I'll have you know."

"Yum." He sipped the hot drink and felt his sinuses get blasted clear. "Gah...perfect."

"Disgusting." Leesie shook her head. "What's for breakfast, honey?"

"For you two, fried ham and real eggs. Everyone else gets scrambled protein spread, thanks to our lady of cheapness cutting my fucking budget again."

"Tell us how you really feel, T."

The big man shook his head. "I'm serious. It's all I can do to give that junk enough taste to be edible. If Danica isn't careful she'll start losing workers to malnutrition."

"Nah, its chock full o'vitaminy goodness." Wyl bared his teeth in a sarcastic grin. 

"True." Leesie sighed, then smiled. "And nothing you make would ever be inedible, honey. You could spice shit up to taste good."

"That's an idea. Maybe I'll serve some to the center of the universe the next time she decides to grace us with her presence," Taylor said disgustedly. "The food'll be ready soon." He went back into the kitchen. 

Leesie turned back to Wyl. "What are you working on today?"

"She wants me to finish repairing the number two grinder." He shook his head. "They just don't hold the oil in that cold, it gets sloughed off. The damn thing overheated three times during the last harvesting season." It was too cold aboveground to continue operations presently, and the gem cutters had their hands full readying stock for shipments. "I'll never talk her into replacing it, though, so it's another dirty fix and hoping it lasts long enough."

"Where is she keeping it right now?"

"Where else? The bloody warehouse." Wyl shivered involuntarily. The warehouse was the main storage facility for mining equipment not in use, and while it was underground and indoors, it was also unheated. Every time Wyl went in there, it felt like he was entering a tomb. "Can't convince her to move it to the damn shop where I could actually use all my tools."

"Reason isn't her strong suit," Leesie agreed.

Wyl grimaced. "Maybe Taylor is right. Maybe I should just sleep with her and get it over with."

"No." Leesie was unusually adamant. "You can't go to her. Letting her use you now would be tantamount to rape. You'd never forgive yourself if you caved."

Wyl blinked. "How is it that you can read my mind?"

"Not your mind, sweetie, your face." Leesie placed her free hand on top of his. "I know it's hard to believe, but people like her do get their comeuppance in time."

"You're right. It is hard to believe." Wyl was spared further uncomfortable conversation by Taylor's return. He was carrying three plates heaped with what smelled like nirvana, and they wasted no time in tucking in to the feast. All too soon it was over, though, and Taylor had to leave to start cooking for the masses, Leesie had to go cut the finest gems, and Wyl had to gather his tools and head into the warehouse. Five frickin' mechanics and he was the only one who had to work in that icebox of a warehouse. He grabbed the long, unwieldy overalls he wore for the work off a hook next to the shop, a pair of goggles and a hood, then the lifter that contained the tools he thought he would need. Thus armed, he trudged to the small metal door that was his own personal entrance to Hell and wearily walked inside.

***

Marshal Robbie Sinclair stared hard at the small, transparent bag in front of him. 

It was filled with glittering white crystals, ground so fine they had the consistency of dust, yet so sharp that each mote sparkled like a tiny diamond. "Mother fucker."

The woman behind him whistled low. "Whoa, that's a lot of angel dust. There's probably ten thousand credits worth in that bag." She flicked a short black dreadlock behind her left ear. "Talk about contraband."

"And he left it in his official fucking locker. Idiot."

"It makes confronting him about it easier," Marshal Jane Freeman shrugged. She and Robbie were both new to Space Station 17, basically a floating city out in the backwater frontier. They had never met before this assignment, but both were retired marines from the nearest planetary federation, both had seen a lot of combat and neither were prepared to let the status quo of bribery and corruption among the station's personnel go unnoticed. They had become friends almost immediately. "Although busting Greene for this isn't going to increase your popularity any among the other officers."

"They're free to think whatever they want of me as long as they don't cross me." Robbie rubbed a hand across his eyes. "Not exactly like being in the marines."

"What, you mean disciplined, orderly and generally law abiding? Nope!" Jane smiled happily. "Still, it has the advantage of us not being shot at."

"So far. Where's Greene right now?"

"Overseeing the docking bay."

"Do me a favor and haul his ass in here."

"Will do, sir." Jane gave an easy salute and walked out of the locker bay. Robbie took advantage of her absence to let a little more of his weariness show. One month, just one month on this piddling little station that catered to nothing but mining colonies and independents and he was already wishing he'd never come. He had been appointed to the post of commander for the marshals stationed here upon his forced retirement from the marines. Laziness, he's been expecting. A certain amount of thievery, absolutely. A total anarchy of order...no. It would be difficult to get people to change after so long of having no accountability, he knew, but the station master was on his side, and so was the federation that owned the station and paid all their salaries. If they didn't change, he'd get their asses replaced. 

Except in cases like this. Angel dust was a cocktail of narcotic compounds, liquefied, distilled, crystallized and powdered. It was lethal in anything other than the tiniest amount and even then the odds of coming out of a trip with a whole brain weren't great. Still, angel dust had a reputation as providing one of the most amazing experiences a person could have, and the market for it was huge. It was highly illegal and therefore highly valuable, and the fact that Greene was still breathing and conscious meant that he wasn't using the drug himself, but selling it or planning on selling it to others. That couldn't be tolerated.

Jane pushed Joseph Greene into the room. He caught sight of the little bag on the bench and his face paled. "That ain't mine." 

"I found it in your locker."

"You can't do that!" Greene exclaimed.

"I couldn't if you were a civilian. But you're a marshal, and under my jurisdiction. Your locker is my property." Robbie's voice was mild, totally calm. He wasn't a huge man, and while he was taller than average and fit, he knew there was nothing really intimidating about him. His close-cut hair was light brown and graying at the temples, his eyes were an innocuous blue, and his features were regular and pleasant. He could see the wariness in Greene's stance relaxing as he decided Robbie wasn't a real threat.

"You can't prove it was me who put it there."

"The bag's covered with you. Surface scan for DNA shows nothing but Joe."

"What's the point?" Greene scowled. 

"The point is it's an illegal substance, Marshal. What is it doing in your locker?"

Greene sighed. "This is your way of entering the game, right man? Look, I'll cut you in ten percent, that's what I was giving Commander Briggs."

"Congratulations, you've just added bribery to your list of crimes," Robbie said grimly. Greene looked at him as if he'd sprouted another eyeball.

"Look, you're kidding, right? You gotta be kidding me. Ain't no smart-ass soldier gonna come here and start telling me how to run my business. Fifteen percent, no higher."

"Lord, you're thick," Robbie sighed. "This is beyond business, Marshal. I don't want credits, I don't want dust, I don't want any part of your little business. I want it to stop, but I doubt you're ready to be reformed."

Greene stilled all his movements. "You ain't serious."

"Marshal Joseph Greene, you are hereby under arrest for the crimes of possession, intent to distribute and attempting to bribe a fellow marshal. You have the right-"

"To hell with this!" Greene roared. He took a lunging step at Robbie, swinging his right hand in a wide, punishing hook. Robbie weaved under the punch, thrust a knee into Greene's gut to bend him over, then threw an elbow to the back of his head. Greene crashed to the ground on his stomach and Jane was on top of him immediately, twisting his left arm back behind him until his shoulder blade was protruding like a chicken wing and he was grunting in pain. Robbie crouched down next to him.

"A lot of you boys and girls got used to slacking under Commander Briggs. You could do anything you wanted and not have to look over your shoulder." His tone was cold and hard. "Well, that time has passed and there'll be no going back. I don't know what the fuck you thought you could accomplish by trying to deck me, but it proves my initial assumption about you right, Greene. You're just too dumb to be given a second chance by me." He stood up straight. "Marshal Freeman, remind Marshal Greene of the rest of his rights, then escort him to the brig. When you're finished, meet me outside the station master's office. I'll be there shortly."

"Yes sir!" Jane said cheerfully as she pressed one hard knee into the center of Greene's spine. The man let out a piteous moan. White teeth split the ebony darkness of her face in a wide smile. "You have the right to remain silent." She tugged his left wrist even higher as she slapped a restraint on it. "A right I recommend you exercise, since anything you say will almost certainly be of no help to you. You have the right to an attorney..." 

Robbie left her reciting the age-old chant as he walked down the hall to the docks. It was childish, but he felt a little better for having had a confrontation. Like he was doing something. It got his blood pumping and reminded him that he still had a lot of his combat training ingrained in his muscle memory. He should, after the hundreds of hours he'd spent training, with people and in sim, and then in his live altercations. Damn it all. He was almost sorry the war was over. By the time Robbie reached the docks his mood had reverted back to somewhere between exasperated and annoyed.


Bonded Ch. 01



He found the dock master sitting back in his chair, feet propped up on the console, idly watching a mining vessel pull into the closest bay. As soon as he saw Robbie, though, his feet hit the ground. "Marshal Sinclair..."

"What was Greene doing before Marshal Freeman escorted him out?"

"He was, umm, checking up on the licenses." The man swallowed nervously. "Just simple work, verification. I can do it, sir-"

"No, Mr..." he glanced at the man's dirty uniform and found a name tag. "Chan. I'll be taking over for Greene for the time being." He sat down in the free chair and pulled up the screen. A list of ships licensed to operate out of the station sprang into view, along with the names of their owners, date of last licensure and some other unidentified number. Robbie looked closer. There was no unit designation, but it wasn't hard to determine what the numbers were. Fees. Bribes, to be more exact. Numbers in green were paid up, numbers in red were amounts owed. Robbie swore under his breath.

"So Greene was verifying what, exactly?" he asked coldly. "Who to lean on? Whether or not to up their 'fees'?" 

"Um...sir...I didn't really know Greene all that well." Mr. Chan cleared his throat. "Stand-offish kind of guy, y'know? Whatever he was doing, it had nothing to do with me."

"Uh-huh. Then I suppose if I have the station master run a check on your credit deposits for the last six months, all he'll see are your paychecks coming in."

"Sir...I..."

"This ends now. We don't charge people a fee to dock here outside of the license required to use the facility and for anything they use, such as fuel or our repairmen. No one does. What Greene should have been checking for was whether or not people's licenses were up to date." He surveyed the list. "This ship, for example. F-12-485. Licensed to Danica Jessom out of Hazard. It hasn't had its license renewed for over thirty months." He pulled the ship's specs up on the screen. "We only give ships the licenses if they aren't flying disasters. This one looks like a beater at best. It's a danger to the station letting it dock here without verifying that it won't do something compromising, like explode. When is their next visit to the station?"

"Um..." Chan swirled a finger around his console, manipulating the screen, "Looks like three days, sir. Standard days. Dropping off a shipment of gemstones."

"Well, send the owner a message letting her know that her ship needs to update its license and it had better be in good enough condition to pass, or she won't trade through our station until it is." 

"Yes, sir." 

"Get some help in here and get messages out to all the regulars that need their licenses updated." Robbie stood to leave.

"Yes, sir. Umm...what happened to Marshal Greene, sir?"

"He suffered the consequences of excessive stupidity, Mr. Chan." Robbie looked over at him and the man blanched. "I'd leave it there, if I were you. Inform me when you're done with the licenses." He walked out of the docks and towards the station master's office, sighing as he visualized the amount of paperwork he would have to fill out to formalize Greene's arrest and removal. The joys of bureaucracy. 

***

It was amazing, Wyl thought to himself as he lay on his back on his small cot, how extremely well some people's voices carried. Admittedly, his hearing had been more sensitive ever since his last...incident, but still, there were two halls and three walls worth of space between him and her. How could one classify a voice that penetrated into the slight sanctity of his living quarters so expertly? Dulcet? Melodic? Operatic? 

A particularly nasty high note reached his ears, and he winced. Try strident. Harpyish. Clamorous. Discordant. Any synonym for fucking annoying would do. He put his pillow over his head and pressed down hard, wishing not for the first time that he could press down hard enough to make himself pass out. Today was his day of rest, his first one since he'd been punished over three weeks ago, and she was ruining that too. His stomach growled noisily. Maybe he could sneak into the kitchen without her noticing. 

Wyl got up, got dressed and moved quietly down the hall. There were a few other workers milling about, but no one wanted to face Danica when she was in a mood. He wouldn't have gone himself if he wasn't so incredibly hungry. The closer he got, the greater the sound, until he finally put his hands over his ears. Wyl got to the door to the mess hall and glanced in carefully. There she was, in all her dubious glory, stalking back and forth in front of Mike, the operations manager, screaming her bloody head off. She was a woman of medium height, curvy and dressed to accentuate it in a tight red cat suit trimmed with rich brown fur and wearing dark brown leather boots that came to her mid-calf. Her hair was long and copper-colored, and flowed like a molten wave down her back. If he had seen her face, he would have seen small, perfect features and a cherry red mouth contorted with rage. He was just as glad to miss it. At least her attention was focused elsewhere. Thinking small, quiet thoughts, Wyl slunk across the floor and into the kitchen before either of the sole inhabitants of the mess noticed him. 

Taylor was in the kitchen, and he looked wrung out. "It's enough to make me want to blow out my eardrums." He glanced at Wyl. "Even worse for you, huh." Wyl nodded, not removing his hands from his ears. The room was large, and it echoed. "Here." He gave Wyl a plate of scrambled something with cheese and tomatoes. "Its tofu," he said when Wyl raised an eyebrow. "And don't gag at me, it's good for you. You won't even taste the healthiness under the spices." He shoved Wyl gently towards a tall stool standing by the counter. "Eat in here, then run for it."

Wyl sat down and shoveled the food into his mouth, not wanting to remove his hands from his ears but unable to help it. It was amazing, how much more they picked up now. He hardly even noticed it when people were speaking normally, but when things got loud...well, he wished he'd brought his earplugs. He never worked without them these days. He ate as fast as he could, and listened without wanting to to Danica's conversation.

"We're paid up!" she insisted. "Just because some new asshole up there starts thinking he can throw his weight around doesn't mean we have to bother with this!"

"Danni." Mike sounded tired. "This isn't connected to the payoff. Hell, Briggs' replacement might not even know about the system. We just got caught. You knew we'd have to update the license sooner or later."

"The whole point in paying the bribe was to avoid updating the license!"

"If it's such a concern, we could use your cruiser to deliver the shipment-"

"No, idiot. The cruiser is practically brand new, and it's a luxury model. I don't want this new guy to start putting things together and checking into my production. I'm not supposed to be able to afford one. The other ship is a tax write-off and has all the smuggling holes I need."

"Well, it'll never pass inspection as it is," Mike said matter-of-factly. "The thing flies okay, but it looks like shit, and frankly we've let it go this past year. Half the internal functions are erratic. Last time Vic took it to the station he couldn't get the water system to keep working."

"So how long to get it all working?"

"Days, Danni."

"I don't have days, dammit! If we don't get the shipment up there by tomorrow, I lose my carriers! For the legitimate goods as well as the smuggled ones! That cuts too heavily into my profits, these gems are the best of the harvest and I have buyers waiting."

"I'm just telling you the truth, Danni. Even if you had all the mechanics working on it now, you'd still have to send one up with it to keep working on the internal functions while it was in transport. The ship only holds two people, and one of them has to be the pilot."

"And will that be enough to get it to pass inspection?"

"Maybe if the mechanic you send with stays up non-stop working on it."

"Fine. Wyl can do it. He's the best mechanic we've got, even if he is a little shit."

Wyl stared over at Taylor in consternation. Not today, dammit, not today. He stood up silently and darted fast for the door, but not fast enough. "Wyl!" Danica's voice cracked like a whip. "Stop. Get over here."

Wyl stopped and turned. "Need something?"

"I think you know I do." Her cat-like eyes took him in, and the irritation on her face dissolved into something sultry. He looked at her eyes and shivered. They were black, almost completely black, with no iris, only the darkness of her pupils. He had no idea what drugs she was on, but it was obvious she had taken something. Even she didn't usually let herself get so riled up. "Come here, Wyl. Sit next to me." She perched on a bench, crossing her slender legs and smiling. 

Wyl sighed. He knew the consequences of openly defying her. He walked over and sat down three feet away from her. "Oh, Wyl. So coy." She tilted her head charmingly, making her bright metallic hair flutter across her shoulders. "Aren't you enjoying your day of rest?"

"I might enjoy it more if I didn't know it was ending."

"It's only because you're the best, Wyl. Sweet Wyl." She reached out one hand and stroked a manicured nail down his cheek. Wyl resisted the urge to shudder, and cringed when he felt something inside of him respond to the touch. It had been so long since anyone had touched him. "You fix the ship up good enough to get a new license, and I'll give you a week off." She promised him, smiling enticingly. "A whole week of rest and relaxation, and maybe a little...recreation as well."

"Great." He kept his voice flat. Danica's eyes narrowed.

"Let me put it another way, then. If the ship doesn't get a new license, I'll hold you personally responsible and take away your rest days for three months, until the next harvesting cycle."

"Now I understand you."

"Well, I don't understand you. Why do you make me punish you, Wyl? I'd much rather be nice to you than threaten you." She turned coy again, and reached out a hand to touch him. Wyl drew his breath in sharply.

"Miss Jessom?" A cool feminine voice broke the tension. Both heads turned to see Leesie standing in the doorway. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to get your opinion on the best cut for the buyer on that 3.2 carat diamond..."

Danica huffed irritably, and Wyl felt the flush slowly drain from his face. "Fine. I'm coming. Wyl, get started on the ship. The other mechanics will be there soon. Mike, see to it." The manager nodded and walked off. "Don't disappoint me, Wyl. This isn't going to be a pleasure trip for you. Get it done, or you'll pay the price."

"You should give classes in motivational speaking."

"You haven't seen motivation yet," she purred. "Run along now, little mouse. Before you upset me." Danica stood, smoothed her hair back, then walked out the door, brushing past Leesie with a haughty sniff. Leesie's eyes met Wyl's for a moment, and he felt a surge of warmth for her and her amazing sense of timing. Then she turned, and the cold crept back in.

Wyl dragged himself to the shop, mechanically selecting the tools he would need to use on the ship and loading them onto the lifter. At least the Wreck, as most of the workers called it, wasn't in the warehouse. He still pulled on overalls, since he was cold almost anywhere, and trudged to the docking bay. Wyl hardly even saw the Wreck as he put his earplugs in and began to work. His face still felt uncomfortably hot, burning where she touched him. That was bad. It had been so long since anyone had touched him like that, touched him like they wanted him...he felt his eyes begin to tear and blinked furiously. He was in a bad way if someone as personally repulsive as Danica could move him to tears. He hadn't wanted her, not really, but he wanted someone. Some kind of connection. He hadn't had anyone, not in that way, since he'd become a bonder. Four years. He closed his eyes for a moment and recalled his dreams, when he'd still had the energy to dream. A body pressed close to his, someone holding him, quiet laughter, caresses and the feel of another man's...

Wyl snapped his eyes open. Pointless, it was pointless. Furious at himself, he got to work, putting on a visor and pulling out his welder. There was a lot of work to do.

***

"You so need to get laid."

Robbie opened his eyes and glared at Jane. They were sitting in the station's one upscale restaurant, looking down on the people walking the merchant quarter below them. The place was bustling. It was amazing what you could find, even out here at the end of the universe.

Jane, at least, had been looking. Robbie had been quiet, eating, drinking and failing miserably at relaxing. Word of his treatment of Greene had circulated around the station, and hardly anyone would meet his eyes now, for fear of drawing his attention. He didn't mind being feared, but he didn't like it either. The only person who wasn't intimidated by him was Jane, and she was no help at all when it came to commiseration.

"I'm serious," she continued, spearing a slice of apple-roasted chicken. "You haven't been with anyone since you got here, I'd know. You need to blow off some steam. Find some sweet young thing and have your way with him."

Robbie sighed. Easy for Jane to say, she would jump anything that moved the right way and with her exotic looks never had any problems finding a companion for the evening. It wasn't that simple for Robbie. "I'm not so good at casual, Jane."

"So who were you last with, then?"

It felt like the words were being drawn out of him with hot pincers, but he knew he needed to get some of his frustration off his chest. "My lover of three years. The day before I left for this station."

"Oh. A committed man." Jane nodded. "So when's he coming to join you?"

"He isn't. He's the son of a federation senator, from a very wealthy family. He could never be happy out here."

Robbie's voice was a little bleak, but Jane pushed anyway. "Not even for a visit or three?"

"No. He's a city boy through and through, he doesn't like space travel, and honestly, we were on our last legs anyway." He sipped his coffee, then added a little more milk to it. "He wanted to branch out. I didn't."

"Not comfortable with adding a third party, huh."

"Not comfortable with a completely open relationship. We'd brought a few other people in, but nothing serious. Garrett wanted to go one way, I wanted to go another. And now it's done." The finality in his voice told Jane that this was the time to stop pushing, but she didn't listen to it.

"There's no reason you still can't enjoy yourself a little. The guys here might be afraid you're going to bust their asses into the brig, but the travelers won't. Or you could use an android. Or the sim. Or-"

"God, Jane, stop." Robbie scowled at her. "Back off, okay? It's none of your business."

"You're right," she agreed. "It's absolutely none of my business, but that doesn't stop me from worrying. You're going to tie yourself in knots, and I'm the one who'll have to put out the fire when your depression gets the better of you."

Robbie stared at her for a long moment. "You studied psychology, didn't you."

"Got my degree before entering the marines, for all the good it did me."

"Then you might want to consider the relative merits of voluntary celibacy as opposed to rampant fornication. Being alone might be depressing, but waking up next to a different, meaningless person every morning can't be any less so."

"Yeah, but my way is more fun!" She grinned, then sobered a little. "Look, I'm sorry to pry. You're just, I don't know...the only thing you do is work, and that's enough to drive anyone crazy after a while. It would probably be good for you to do something else. Or someone," she added with a wink.

"You're a nymphomaniac, you know that?"

"And proud of it." She touched the left corner of the tabletop and the time appeared. "I've gotta run, need to get cleaned up for my date tonight."

"Anyone you've seen before?"

"He just got off a ship today." She leered suddenly. "And he brought his sister with him."

"God, you're sick. Get out of here."

Jane stood up, giggling. "And they're twins!" Robbie's balled-up napkin hit her back as she hurried away, laughing out loud. He watched her go, unaware of the broad smile on his face until a muscle in his cheek twinged. The smile gradually disappeared. Robbie couldn't remember the last time he had smiled. His face had gotten out of practice for it. He pulled out his credit strip and drew up the bill, paid, then left for his quarters. No one even looked at him as he walked down the halls. He knew he was glowering, but he couldn't help it.

He got to his quarters, entered and shut the door as fast as he could. His place was pretty nice, actually, nicer than what he was used to living in as a marine. There was a large living room with one wall entirely dedicated to a holoscreen, an equally large bedroom with a bed built for two, a bathroom with two sinks and an actual, honest-to-god bath in it, and a kitchen with space to let him order from the station's menu or make things for himself. It had been the apartment for the last marshal commander, and he'd had a wife. That meant Robbie had extra room.

He filled some of it with basic workout equipment, a few bookshelves and a case housing all of his guns and knives. Even with those and the standard furnishings, it still felt empty. Like everything in his life.

Running on the treads for an hour didn't get his mind off what Jane had said. Neither did lifting weights, even though he keyed their heaviness to the point where they were nearly impossible to lift, and he had to drop them. Obedient mechanicals, they thumped to the floor at half a pound each, not the sixty he had set them to. Robbie put them away, then stalked off to the bathroom, stripping himself out of sweaty clothes as he did so. He turned on the bath and waited for it to fill, glancing at himself in the full-length mirror set into the opposite wall. Garrett had loved his body. The sex had stayed good, even when everything else was falling apart. Robbie had been given certain modifications for metabolism, strength and endurance when he'd entered the marines, and although they'd mostly been deactivated upon his retirement, a lifetime of living with them had left him so solid that it would take years to wear him down, even if he were to let himself go. 

Hi slipped into the warm water, leaning back against the edge of the tub and closing his eyes, enjoying the steam eddying around his face and shoulders. Tension he hadn't noticed before eased out of his neck and back, making him feel loose and relaxed. Robbie wanted to keep it that way, but he couldn't get his mind off of Jane's words. Why didn't he want anyone? Was he still not over Garrett? No, that wasn't it. The love had gone out of their relationship months ago. Maybe it was because, deep inside, he was a romantic. Casual sex was just...too easy. Flippant. Meaningless. He did so much these days that felt meaningless to him; another adjustment, another order, another lost potential. He wouldn't compound that feeling with the tendrils of desire he knew would throw his life into a tailspin, no matter how much he missed the touch of another man.

Idly, Robbie reached down and stroked his lengthening cock. His hand smoothed itself along his length easily, as reliable as an old friend, and the only friend he trusted right now. He visualized his last time with Garrett, only feeling the slightest pinch of pain at the memory. A handsome blonde man, as beautiful as ego and money could make him, on his hands and knees while Robbie knelt behind him, thrusting into him hard and fast, a last goodbye fuck. Garrett arched his back and moaned, and Robbie knew he was hitting his spot, the perfect spot, the perfect fit. They had always fit together well. He held onto those smooth golden hips, caressing his ass, finally reaching around and gripping his lover's steely cock as he felt his own orgasm approaching. It had never taken Garrett very long to get off, and he did, with a strangled cry and a convulsive clench of his ass as he shot his load onto the bed beneath them, and Robbie let himself go, reveling in the tightness and the heat as he came-




Bonded Ch. 01



His hand stroked himself to completion as he remembered, and thick ropes of come jetted into the water. Robbie held himself, breathing hard, and groaned under his breath. It felt good, it was good, but it was an empty pleasure now. Fuck. He had read way too many romance novels. It had ruined him for hedonism. He smiled slightly at the thought of his guilty pleasure, wondering what Jane would say if she knew. Probably laugh.

Robbie cleaned himself up, toweled off-he had never been comfortable with the damn air dryers-and flopped down on his bed, pulling the sheet over him as he grabbed the antique paperback book off his nightstand. He liked to read himself to sleep. Tomorrow would be a long day. The gem merchant's ship was coming in, and he wanted to be a part of the inspection. There was a story there.

***

Wyl rubbed bleary eyes and tried to focus on the torn panel. Torn panel. Torn. How the hell did you tear an internal metal panel off a fucking wall? Someone had mad skills. Haha, mad...that was how he was feeling after staring at the Wreck for nearly forty-eight hours without sleep. Caffeine. He needed caffeine, laced with caffeine. Wyl pushed off his knees, staggered slightly, and bumped his way down the tiny hall to the tinier kitchenette. He rummaged around until he found the instant coffee mix, poured it into a cup and added hot water. He sipped, and grimaced. Foul and weak. Foul he could stand, but weak just wouldn't cut it right now. He upended five more instant coffee packages into the water, stirred it all together and sipped again. Okay, so it had the consistency of mud and tasted like char, but it sure was zingy. 

"Wyl." Vic's voice crackled over the comm. "Get your ass up here and strap in. We're getting ready to dock."

Wyl gulped the sludge down in a hurry, repressing his urge to vomit, then moved back up to the front to sit next to Vic, the pilot. Vic didn't even bother to glance his way as Wyl strapped his harness on. "Don't touch anything."

"You don't have to remind me every time I sit down."

"You're tired and punchy, who knows what shit you might try?" Vic grunted. "Man, as soon as we dock, I'm for the bars. Danica ain't payin' me enough to explain this piece of shit to some fuckin' marshal. I'll meet with the buyers, get the stuff unloaded after the thing's been inspected."

"No please, don't offer to help. Honestly, I'll be fine."

"You'd better be," Vic replied, watching his controls as he guided the ship into the assigned docking bay. "Otherwise your ass is in a sling."

Wyl ignored Vic and focused on the station ahead of them. It was big, really big for one so far out. He had come through here six months ago when he was being transferred to Danica. There were over three thousand employees, and enough creature comforts to make the place feel like a real city, like a home. Despite himself, he was excited to be coming back. Vic wasn't going to be around. If he could charm whoever came to meet them, maybe he'd be able to slip away for awhile. Not that he had any money to spend, but still...

The Wreck slid into the dock, and the pressure doors slid shut behind them. Gravity reestablished itself, and they slipped out of their harnesses. Vic glanced out the view port and swore. "Posse's here. Got your fast-talk ready?"

"Yes."

Vic eyed him up and down. "You look like shit, kid."

"Great, thanks." 

Vic opened the door and put the ramp down, then stepped out. "I know nothin', talk to the kid," he told the two men outside the Wreck, then immediately headed for the door. Wyl cursed him in his head, then stepped down himself. He looked at the welcoming party.

One of the men was fairly small, thin and held a clipboard in one hand. The license reviewer, no doubt. The other man was wearing a black uniform that fit him way too well and wore a badge on his chest. This would be the marshal, then. Damn...it was hard for Wyl to pull his eyes away. He was uncomfortably aware of his sudden flush and substituted gregariousness to hide it. "Sir." He held out a hand.

The marshal hesitated, then took it. His hand was larger than Wyl's, warm and hard. "Marshal Sinclair. And you are?"

"Wyl Leyton. Danica Jessom's mechanic." Wyl reluctantly let go of the sexy marshal's hand.

"Good. Then maybe you can explain why her ship hasn't had its license updated in so long."

"Gosh, so much for foreplay." Did that just come out of his mouth? He hurried on. "I've only worked for Miss Jessom for the past six months, sir. She's been very busy overseeing mining operations on Hazard, and technically it is the station's responsibility to remind us when the license needs to be renewed."

"True," Marshal Sinclair acknowledged. There was a little glimmer in his eyes that Wyl hoped was amusement. "But it's Miss Jessom's responsibility to make sure her ship isn't a death trap before sending it up to the station, and honestly, this ship doesn't look so good."

"The damage is mostly cosmetic," Wyl replied. "The ship was caught in an ice storm during the last landing. It wreaked some heavy damage, and we've been too understaffed to get around to it. The mechanics are all sound." They'd better be, he'd worked his ass off making sure of it.

"I see." Marshal Sinclair looked dubiously at the ship. "This is Inspector Doyle." The little man bobbed his head. "He's going to verify that information."

"Sure, we can start in the-"

"No, Mr. Leyton." The marshal shook his head. "Protocol forbids you from accompanying him on board. He's very familiar with this model ship, he can figure things out without your help. I'm sorry, but it could take several hours. Is there any cargo onboard?"

"Yes, in the hold. A shipment of gemstones." And in other places as well. Wyl hoped the inspector wouldn't find any of those. He would have felt better if he could have been there, guiding him away from problem areas...

He suddenly realized the marshal had been speaking. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Do you mind if I ask you some more questions, Mr. Leyton?" 

"Only if you keep calling me Mr. Leyton. Make it Wyl. Please," he added. Inspector Doyle walked up the ramp, and Wyl mentally shrugged his shoulders; it was out of his hands now. It was actually kind of relaxing. He felt a grin spread across his face. "Can I call you Sinclair?" Good grief, why was he being so forward? Had there been aphrodisiacs mixed in with that coffee?

The marshal allowed himself a small smile. "No. But you can call me Robbie."

"Great. So, Robbie, what do you want to know? My sign is Scorpio, my favorite color is blue..." He stopped himself, and blushed. "I'm sorry. I'm tired, it's making me stupid."

"That's all right. Do you want some coffee?"

"That's like asking if I want oxygen."

"We'll get some, then I'll ask my questions.'

"Ah." Damn, now he felt strange. "I don't actually have, um, a credit strip with me." Because fucking Danica puts it all towards my fucking bond and won't leave me enough to buy a fucking cup of coffee with the most gorgeous man in light years.

"Hm. That's fine, I'm buying." Was it Wyl's imagination, or was the marshal surreptitiously checking him out? "Are you ready, or do you need to grab anything off the ship?"

"No, I'm wearing all my worldly possessions." God, he was tired. He was slipping up. Danica had told him specifically not to put anything in a negative light. Of course, to put things in a positive light would require that he lie like a rug, and his brain wasn't up for that sort of creativity.

"Let's go, then."

***

Robbie walked down the corridor followed closely by Wyl Leyton. No, just Wyl. Wyl who despite looking exhausted and underfed was possibly the most beautiful man he had ever seen. He was average height, obviously below average weight and had a face that looked angelic, delicate and fine-boned. His hair was thick and black and slightly wavy, and his golden brown eyes, accentuated by the thinness of his face, were the most expressive Robbie had ever seen. He could read every emotion Wyl was experiencing just by looking into his amazing eyes. He could see fatigue, and hunger, and worry. He could also see humor, and more than a hint of interest. That in and of itself was enough to make Robbie more considerate than he had been in the mood for at the beginning of their meeting.

Not that he needed to have anyone take an interest in him. Hadn't he just reaffirmed that with himself last night? Still...the man was so irresistible.

They got to the closest coffee shop and found a table. Robbie could feel the curious stares of bystanders, but he ignored them. He pulled up the menu on the table. "Order whatever you want."

"Music to my ears." Wyl glanced at the menu before circling his choice with a forefinger. Each table had its own antique grinder and brewer, with all the bells and whistles added to make it work on its own and add any special ingredients. Robbie ordered a café au lait. It was dispensed into a white ceramic cup a lot faster than Wyl's drink. The machine ground and hissed, burbled and chugged and finally revealed a small cup of what looked like the dark of space, without stars. There was a small cube of white sugar next to it. Wyl picked up the sugar, dropped it into the cup and stirred with the tiny spoon provided.

"What is that?" Robbie asked curiously.

"Seven espressos."

Robbie blinked. "In that tiny cup?"

"Seven condensed espressos." Wyl grinned again, and Robbie felt his heart give an uncomfortable lurch.

"Seven espressos. Are you going to be bouncing off the walls?"

"Nah, it takes at least ten to really get me going in the mornings." He sipped at the drink and sighed contentedly. "This is perfect. So much better than ship coffee." He glanced at Robbie's own drink. "Why adulterate the taste with milk?"

"Because only someone with no taste buds can drink it without," Robbie replied. He didn't mean to come off as flirtatious, but the smile Wyl gave him was enough to make him change his mind. Maybe a little flirting...

"So Robbie, what were your questions?"

"How long have you been employed by Danica Jessom?"

There was that smile again. "Six months, and you already knew that."

Damn, he did. He had to focus. "Did your predecessor leave any maintenance records for the ship?"

"Not very good ones. It's been a bit of a challenge figuring out what needed to be repaired and replaced." He caught Robbie's look. "I know, the thing looks like a piece of scrap, but it does run well. It should, I've been working on it for days."

Robbie wasn't sure why, but he felt a little guilty about that. He knew that he was the reason Wyl's boss had had him working non-stop on her ship. It wasn't his fault the previous establishment had been happy with bribes and not results. "Why doesn't your employer get some more mechanics?"

"Oh, she has more. Most of them are only rated to work on mining equipment, though. A ship is a little more delicate than that."

"What are you rated for?"

"Lots of different ships, from the G-class singles to A-class colony ships." He said it casually, as if that sort of expertise hadn't taken years of work and schooling. "It didn't take me long to pick up how to maintain the mining equipment."

"Why do you work for Miss Jessom when your specialty is working on ships?" Robbie asked curiously. "You'd make a lot more that way."

Wyl's mouth twisted slightly, and a bitter resentment entered his eyes. "I'm a bonder. Unfortunately I don't get much of a say in how I pay my bond back."

"How did you become a bonder?"

Wyl's expression became blank, and his eyes were distant. It disconcerted Robbie. "I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?"

"Not really...it's just...no bonder would ask another bonder that question. It's considered...impertinent."

"I apologize."

The ice in his face melted away, and Wyl smiled again. "It isn't your fault, you didn't know. Besides, I'm inclined to let you make it up to me."

For some reason Robbie felt hot around his collar. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, we have another few hours, right?" Robbie nodded. "Maybe dinner. I'm hungry."

"Sure, we can go to Melanie's; it's just one level up-"

"I was thinking of dinner at your place."

Robbie swallowed, caught completely off-guard. Wyl was blushing, but he was meeting his eyes, and he seemed serious. How long had it been since someone had propositioned him? A long time. And how much of what he had said last night to Jane was motivated by loneliness and hurt? Probably more than he wanted to admit. Now he had a fun, handsome guy asking him to take him home. How could he say no?

He had waited too long to reply. The smile was leaving Wyl's face, and he looked down at his cup. Robbie hastened to reassure him. "I'd love to make you dinner."

***

Wyl felt like slapping himself the moment the words left his lips. Dinner? At his place? Who did he think he was, inviting himself to a marshal's private quarters like he deserved his attention? Was he so astonishingly desperate? He didn't think he was wrong that Robbie was interested, but when he was quiet for so long, Wyl began to second guess himself. Oh, you idiot... He lowered his eyes to try to hide his embarrassment. Then Robbie had replied, in that amazing low voice, that he wanted to take him home. It was like a shot straight to Wyl's libido. The thought of having this man, all by himself, in a private place...he drained the rest of his espresso in one gulp. "Let's go."

Robbie had barely even touched his drink, but he didn't seem to care. He pulled out his credit strip, paid, and helped Wyl up from his chair. His hand was even warmer now, and his eyes reflected that warmth. "Lets."

It wasn't a long walk to his apartment, but to Wyl it felt like an eternity. Robbie kept a hold of his hand, leading him along like an eager puppy. The touch was driving Wyl crazy. It had been so long, so long...he danced impatiently once they reached Robbie's door, causing the marshal to give him a grin. It looked good on him, lightening his demeanor. He opened the door, led Wyl inside, and had just enough time to close it before Wyl lost any semblance of restraint and threw himself at Robbie, wrapping his arms around his shoulders as he pressed their lips together. It was incredible, this sensation of holding another person, of wanting them...when Robbie put his arms around Wyl's waist and pulled him closer, Wyl nearly fainted with need. He thrust his tongue into Robbie's mouth, tasting his sweetness and groaning. Robbie groaned back, and Wyl felt his hardness pressing into his hip. "So much for foreplay. If you don't stop that I'll never be able to make us dinner," he gasped.

"I'm hungry now," Wyl panted. He pulled off of Robbie just long enough to lead the dazed man over to the couch and push him onto it, then straddled his thighs and leaned in for another kiss even as he undid the front of his uniform. He wanted to feel more of his skin, he needed that heat, that connection. He felt Robbie's hands roaming over his back, sliding down his sides and gently cupping his ass. "Fuck," Wyl moaned. He was dying for a taste of what lay hard beneath him. He slid backwards off of Robbie's legs, yanked his pants open and freed his cock all in one desperate motion. Wyl gazed at it for a moment, hungry in ways he barely remembered from before, then leaned in and laid his lips over the head.

"Oh." Robbie's breath caught in his throat. "Oh, Wyl. Yes, mmm..." He ran his fingers through Wyl's hair. Wyl took that as encouragement, not that he needed it. He used one hand to grip the base of Robbie's long cock and lowered his mouth down the shaft, closing his eyes and relishing every inch. He wanted it, wanted it so badly...the head brushed the back of his throat and he started up again, stroking up with his hand as well. His other hand crept down to his loose canvas pants and fondled himself through the material.

"Mmm, Wyl." Hearing his name spoken like that, spoken like it was a caress, did away with the last of Wyl's ability to control himself. He increased his tempo on Robbie's cock, pumping up and down with his hand as he licked and sucked at the head, desperate for a taste of this man, desperate to bring him as much pleasure as Wyl was feeling. It didn't take long for Robbie to respond to him, and his hips began to move involuntarily in small thrusts, driving his cock a little further into Wyl's mouth even as his hands pushed Wyl's head down. Wyl let himself be led, relished in the fact that he was giving Robbie something he wanted. He felt Robbie's balls tighten, heard his voice become more strained, and readied himself to receive. 

Robbie came explosively, shooting his seed into Wyl's mouth as he cried out his name, and the sweet-salty taste coupled with Robbie's desire made Wyl lose it. He came with his pants still on, a long, almost painfully drawn-out orgasm. He was still trembling weakly when Robbie reached down and lifted him off the floor, back into his lap and wrapped his arms around him, holding him so that they were face to face. They kissed slowly, sharing the taste of Robbie's cream. When they had recovered a bit Robbie opened his eyes, looked down, and then looked shocked. "You came?"

"I couldn't help it."

"Nothing to help. I'm just surprised, is all."

"Never fear. The night is young." Wyl grinned hugely. "You can certainly reciprocate if you want to."

"Oh, I do. But how about I make you dinner first?"

Wyl remembered how hungry he was, now that the edge of his horniness was blunted. "I'd love it."

***

Robbie made pizzas. He had fixed himself back up a little, enough so that he wasn't being obscene as he walked around the kitchen, but the way Wyl was watching him you'd think he was putting on a striptease. The attention was flattering, but Robbie was a little bit self-conscious. Those huge, satisfied and yet hungry eyes seemed to devour his every move. He eventually distracted Wyl's attention by handing him a small, real cheese pizza. "Not haute cuisine, I know."

"Haute cuisine isn't something I have a lot of experience with, although our cook does amazing things with field rations." Wyl took one bite, then another. 

Robbie watched him voraciously attack the pizza, and handed his over. "Eat this one too. I've got another one in the oven."

Wyl thanked him with his eyes because his mouth was full. They both ate, Wyl finishing both of his in the time it took Robbie to down one. "Sorry," Wyl said at last, licking a bit of sauce from his fingertip. "It's been forever since I've had a pizza."

"Seems like its' been forever since you've eaten, period." They were sitting next to each other on the couch, and Robbie reached a hand out and cupped the side of Wyl's face. "You're too thin."

Wyl shuddered at his touch, and as Robbie watched his pupils dilated to the point that it was hard to tell his eyes were brown. His responsiveness, his eagerness, was an incredible turn on. Robbie reached out and slowly pulled Wyl's shirt over his head. There wasn't an ounce of fat on him, and he was well-muscled but painfully thin. Robbie lifted his legs onto the couch and pressed his back against the far armrest. He undid the ties on Wyl's pants, smoothing his hands over his washboard stomach and slender hips as he did so, then pulled them slowly down his legs and off, lightly running his fingers across Wyl's skin as he did so. It left Wyl naked in front of him, eyes glazed with need, his cock still shiny and slick from his earlier ejaculation. He was the most beautiful thing Robbie had ever seen.

Robbie leaned in and pressed his body to Wyl's, resting most of his weight on his arms. He kissed him, then whispered, "How long has it been for you?"

"Four years," Wyl replied raggedly.

"Holy shit. No wonder you're on such a hair trigger." Robbie nuzzled into the side of Wyl's neck, then nipped at his earlobe. Wyl gasped. "I'm going to clean you off, and then I'm taking you to my bed.'




Bonded Ch. 02



Special thanks go to my awesome reader and editor, pebo, who gives great suggestions in the gentlest way possible.

***

Marshal Jane Freeman was watching her commander closely. He was off, that was for sure. Robbie Sinclair was a space-cold bastard who dedicated himself to his work to the exclusion of everything, and everyone, else. At least, he had been up until a week ago. This past week he had been...distracted. Ever since he had gotten together with that little cutie from Hazard. Not really Jane's type, but she could see what was appealing, with those big brown eyes and waif-like frame. It had been just one night, but ever since then it seemed like his mind had been wandering more. Not really when he was on the job, but when he relaxed a little bit, when they were alone in his office, he was just...off. Jane decided to test him.

"So you got my memo on the shift rotations?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Good, good. I knew that writing it in Cyrillic wouldn't pose any difficulty for you."

"Nope."

"Seeing as how you studied ancient Russian history in school."

"Mm...yeah."

"Uh-huh." She eyed him closely. "Just like Wyl Leyton did."

"What?" He sat up suddenly, his eyes snapping over to her. "What about Wyl?"

Jane sighed in exasperation. "You are totally out of it, boss-man."

"What do you mean?"

"I just told you I wrote you a memo in Cyrillic, for shit's sake! Most people don't even know what that is anymore! You didn't snap out of it until I mentioned Wyl Leyton's name." She leaned back in her chair, staring at him. "He's still on your mind, huh." She saw the reluctance in his face. "C'mon Robbie, confession is good for the soul. Spill it."

Robbie sighed. He had drifted off, without even realizing it. It was like this past week he'd been stumbling around in a daze, reliving every moment he'd spent with Wyl in his mind at the most inopportune times. Even the station master had noticed something was distracting him, and gone so far as to offer counseling. Counseling. Fuck it, he didn't need counseling, he needed Wyl. Gorgeous, hot, funny, sexy Wyl who made him feel like he was worth a damn at something more than breaking people down. This last week he hadn't even been very good at that. His nights were full of dreams of Wyl, dreams which, while extremely enjoyable, weren't the type that allowed for steady sleep, and his working hours were filled with unrelenting memories and anticipation. Without Jane covering his back, it would have been a very tough week.

"I miss him," he said finally, a little uncomfortably. Jane was fast becoming a good friend, his only friend on the station, but still, talking about feelings was so...not him.

"You like him."

"Yes."

"As more than just a hot fuck."

"Jane..."

"Robbie, it wasn't hard for me to see that you were into him. And obviously he was way into you. So try not to get shy now."

"You thought he was into me?" He tried to hide the relief he felt at her words. Robbie knew the sex was incredible and that Wyl had been neglected for a long time, but he wasn't so sure about how he'd fared in the light of the day, so to speak.

Jane laughed. "You're adorable when you're insecure! Into you? You couldn't pry him off of you in the bedroom, and you were just sleeping when I came in. When I watched him say goodbye from the control center, it was all he could do not to jump you. And it was his idea to facilitate his coming back, right?" She waited for Robbie's nod. "So yes, he's into you. Feelings assuaged, hugs all around. What else?" she encouraged.

"Well...I'm looking forward to him coming back."

"Why? For another wild night?"

"Yes, but not just that." Robbie averted his eyes, looking out into space. "I want to know more about him. There's a lot to learn. He's a bonder, but he wouldn't tell me why."

"A bonder?" Jane shook her head. "That's rough. My daddy was a bonder before he entered the military; they were offering debt removal for service back then. And yeah, I've heard they can be touchy about why they're in the system. On the plus side, odds are pretty good he isn't a criminal."

"What?" Robbie turned back to stare at her. "How could someone who broke the law be eligible for the bond system? I thought it was just for debts."

"It is, but there are different types of debts, and the planets all have their own guidelines for punishment. Monetary debt is the simplest, straight-up. Pretty easy to deal with too, since friends and family are allowed to help pay the bond off. Sometimes if a person is involved in financial fraud the government will grab their property as well as placing a debt on them. Same thing goes for petty thievery, some drug abusers, reckless endangerment or manslaughter charges...it all depends. The more money a planet or federation needs, the more crimes they turn into bond-debt instead of jail time. Bonds can sell for a lot of money if the skills are right."

Wyl definitely had skills. He was a good mechanic, too...Robbie felt a blush coming on. "Think I should try to find out his history?"

"If you really like him, you definitely should. And if he really likes you, he'll tell you eventually, because you need to be honest with the people close to you."

Robbie smiled. "Tell me again why you're a marshal and not a counselor."

"Because I can't stand listening to people bitch about their fucking problems all day."

"You're doing a pretty good job with me."

"Are you kidding? I'm pulling bloody teeth." Jane shook her head. "You're a tough guy, Robbie. You don't complain about anything, you don't ask for sympathy, you don't ask for a break. I really respect that." She grinned. "That's why you get my advice for free."

"I'm a lucky guy."

"Too right you are. When does he come in?"

"Not for another five hours."

"Oh, you'll be useless." Jane stood up and stretched. "It's about time for a break anyway. Put Dawson in charge and let's spar for awhile. I haven't worked my control techniques for weeks."

"Get ready to get beaten."

"Ha! So says the pretty boy, all brawn and no brains. I'll have you dancin' to my lead in no time." She struck a pose, flexing, then walked out. Robbie smiled after her and grabbed for his comm. It would do him some good to get his mind off Wyl for awhile. If anything could do that.

***

When Wyl got back from the station, he was floating. He couldn't help it. If he had dreamed up the most spectacularly lucky, pleasurable scenario he could think of before going up to the station, it would have paled in comparison to the reality he experienced. Mind-blowing sex with the hottest person he'd ever met, a person who was in a position to get him back up to the station, a person who for some reason seemed to want him even though he wasn't much to look at...certainly not by comparison. Robbie Sinclair. Robin. Wyl grinned when he remembered Robbie's reaction to Wyl figuring out his name. He got so cute when he was a little flustered...

Wyl wanted to find out more about what flustered him. He wanted to ask him about Old Earth and living on Mars, and how long it had taken him to get to this system. He wanted to know about what'd he'd done before coming to the station, what his favorite food was, whether he had brothers or sisters and more about what turned him on. Especially that. He wanted to make Robbie lose his mind with pleasure, and love Wyl so much that he never needed to know about his past.

Wyl frowned. That last thought bothered him, for several reasons. The first was because he knew it was stupid of him to want Robbie to talk about himself and not expect Wyl to reciprocate. The second was because he had used the word "love". It was way too soon to be using that word. It had never been a word he was comfortable with anyway, not since his parents had died, so how could he even consider it with a man he had just met? It didn't matter that he was handsome and caring and a great lover who could also cook. Right? Right. 

Wyl, you're an idiot, he berated himself silently. You never stop to think things through, you just go full speed and assume everything will work out. Look where it's gotten you. And now it's too late to go back. 

Wyl's attention was pleasantly distracted by Taylor's arrival. "I'll help you unload."

"Thanks." Vic had purchased a number of things at the station at Danica's behest, but immediately after arriving he had abandoned ship, leaving Wyl to get everything out.

"So," Taylor said casually as they hauled a pile of coiled tubing out of the hold, "Danica meet you when you got back?"

"Yeah."

"And how did that go?"

"Could have been worse," Wyl shrugged. They dropped the tubing onto a pallet and went back inside for more. "She was livid for a few seconds about not getting the license renewed, but when I explained what a deferral was to her, she calmed down a little. A tiny bit. Fixing up the exterior of the Wreck is going to be my project for the next week, and then we go back up to finish the inspection."

"Hell, I'm surprised you got that far, what with the state this was in." Taylor was a much larger man than Wyl and despite the fact that he was the cook and not a laborer, he easily lifted twice what Wyl could, balancing it on his shoulder as he carried it back to the cart. "A deferral. So you get to go back."

"Yeah." Wyl tried to keep the excitement out of his voice when he said it, but Taylor Paulsen was one of his only real friends on this rock, along with his wife Leesie, and he knew Wyl well enough to know when something moved him out of the state of apathy he usually resided in.

"Had a good time, then?" Taylor asked with a grin.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Probably not. We wouldn't want her highness to see you smiling, though, she'd take it as a personal affront."

"Yeah..." Danica worried Wyl. She worried him a lot. She had never been a very stable person, and this last standard month her behavior had gotten more and more extreme, especially where he was concerned. For some reason she was obsessed with the idea of him sleeping with her, and if she knew he had been up at the station enjoying himself with someone else, especially if she found out it was a man...her reaction could be explosive. Literally. "I tried to tone it down when she came by."

"At least you got through the meeting with your eardrums intact," Taylor grunted as he lifted another crate. "She's been hissing and spitting like a catterpet in heat lately. I'd as soon fly a ship into a black hole as get close enough to touch her." He glanced sidelong at Wyl. "She spent quite a bit of time ranting about you. 'What's taking so long, why aren't they back, what's Wyl doing...'."

"Fuck, T," Wyl groaned. "How am I going to survive another year of her?"

"You'll think of something," Taylor shrugged. "Or you'll have a heart attack."

"You're really encouraging, thanks, T."

"It's what I do." 

Fortunately Wyl avoided Danica for the rest of the day. Her instructions to him had been explicit-"Finish the fucking ship!"-so he spent his time in the docking bay, scavenging parts for the hull and planning where to put the patches. He focused, mentally imagining how to place the shield plates, which ones to move and lock in new places and which ones would need to be scrapped and replaced. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't even notice the other person standing in the bay until a light, feminine hand touched his shoulder.

Wyl started violently and whirled around, whipping his welding faceplate off. It wasn't Danica though, it was Leesie, holding a plate of food and a glass of vitamin-enhanced water. Wispy blonde curls trailed about her face as she smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I called out, but you were too involved to hear me, I guess."

"It's okay." Wyl's heart was gradually coming down from its frenetic high. 

"Taylor made you some dinner. You didn't come to the mess hall this afternoon."

Wyl took the plate from her hands. "Yeah, I know. I have a lot of work to do on the Wreck before we go back up." He sat down on a crate and dug into the sandwich Taylor had made. Leesie sat down next to him, folding her hands across her lap, a faint smile on her face. She waited until he was done to start talking.

"So, is he nice?"

Wyl almost choked on the last bite of his sandwich. He took a long drink of the water, and then asked, "Did T tell you?"

"He mentioned you had gotten together with someone, but honestly I didn't need him to tell me that. I saw you when you got back. You were smiling, Wyl. I've never seen you smile like that before. It disappeared as soon as you saw Danica, but it was definitely there." She nudged his hip. "You don't have to talk about it, hon."

"I want to." It was true, too. "He's better than nice. He's...perfect."

"Gosh. Tell me more about Mr. Perfect."

"He's a marshal at the station. I think he's some sort of commander, but I'm not sure...he was there to meet us when we pulled the Wreck in."

"What's his name?"

"Robbie. Robbie Sinclair."

"Robbie Sinclair." Leesie repeated it, as though committing his name to memory. "And he was good to you?"

Wyl couldn't suppress a smirk. "You don't know how good."

"Pig," Leesie grinned. "I'm glad you met someone who could make you happy, at least for a while.'

"I'm going to see him again, when we take the Wreck back up." Wyl was nearly vibrating with excitement. "You'd like him, Leesie, he's friendly, he's handsome, he's abso-fucking-lutely incredible in bed-"

"Not that I'd go there," Leesie interjected. "I guess you guys really hit it off."

"I guess so. I don't know why, he's a full-class citizen and I'm a bonder, he's incredibly attractive and I'm not, he's-" 

"Wyl, you have some really weird misconceptions about yourself." Leesie shook her head. "You might be a bonder, but you're expressive, independent, intelligent and very handsome." She smiled a little sadly. "That's part of your problem, remember?"

"Danica. Shit." Wyl rubbed his hands over his face. "If she knew she'd crucify me. Not that I've given her any reason to think I want her."

"Of course not. That's one of the reasons she's after you so hard. Be careful this week, Wyl. Don't give her any cause to be suspicious. Don't let her ruin this chance for you."

"What chance?"

"Your chance for happiness." Leesie picked up the empty plate and glass. "Don't stay up too late, and don't forget to go to breakfast."

"Yes, Mommy." Wyl watched her leave, feeling better than he had since he's gotten back. 

***

Wyl worked his ass off on the Wreck for the next six days, staying under the radar and avoiding Danica as much as possible. Every passing day brought him closer to going back to the station, and to Robbie. He sometimes stopped in the middle of his work, paralyzed by a memory, savoring the vivid sensations his brain provided as he remembered Robbie's hands, and the feel of his mouth, and the softness of the bed beneath his back as Robbie pressed into him, and held him, and took him. It was occasionally awkward having such vibrant recollections, and Wyl was very glad he was working alone.

Finally it was almost time, everything was almost ready, and Wyl was more than ready. The Wreck looked better than it had in years, but he kept at it anyway, trimming the lines, rechecking the new seals on the door, loading the last of the cargo-

"That's a very annoying habit you've picked up."

Wyl froze for a moment, his body locked in a rigor of fear before calming down enough to turn around. "What habit?"

"Whistling," Danica replied, walking across the docking bay towards him. "I've never heard you do it before, Wyl. It echoes abominably, it makes my head hurt just to listen to it." She stalked up to him, cat-eyes glaring, smoldering like dying stars. Her metallic, coppery hair glittered like thousands of tiny knives, and the skin-tight black leather suit she was wearing looked more suitable to a dominatrix's wardrobe than a miner's. She stopped less than a foot away from Wyl, cocking her head to one side, her expression cold. She smelled like flowers. It was an incongruous combination.

"What could put you in the mood to whistle, Wyl?" she asked, anger and bitterness suffusing her voice. "Looking forward to something? Or someone?"

"Just pleased with my work."

"Fucking bullshit." She raised a hand faster than Wyl could see and levered it across his face. The crack from the slap reverberated throughout the docking bay.

Wyl was reeling, his face burning and his mind numb from the blow, when Danica grabbed his hair and hauled him close to her. Tiny flecks of spittle flew from her lips as she broke into shouting. "Did you play at being someone's little whore, you slut? Did you? Who was it? What did she do to get you into her bed?"

"She". At least she hasn't put everything together. "You're paranoid," Wyl said painfully, his jaw aching. "And it's none of your business. So fuck off."

Danica's face contorted with fury, and her skin flushed. Wyl could see that the whites of her eyes were actually pink, and her skin was burning to the touch. She's on something. He didn't have time to wonder what, because an instant later she threw him, head first, at the Wreck. Wyl managed to turn so that he didn't hit with his face, but that was the best he could do. The side of his head and his shoulder impacted the metal with a thud, and he dropped to the ground, blind with pain. He barely even felt it when she grabbed him by the hair again. "You're going to go up there and finish this, because if you don't I'll have that marshal fucker breathing down my neck. You'll finish it, and I hope you enjoy yourself, because when you come back I'll keep you here working off your bond for the next ten years of your life."

"You can't..."

Danica laughed cruelly. "No one is checking on you, Wyl. No one cares about you. I can do anything that I want to you, and nobody will give a shit." She shook his head violently, nails digging into his scalp. "You think you're special? Think again. I own this world. Nobody tells me no, least of all a snotty little bonder." She let him go and straightened up, flipping her long hair over one shoulder. "Vic won't be flying you up there this time. Mike's accompanying you. He'll be here in half an hour, so have everything ready to go then." She whirled around and stalked away, leaving Wyl crouched on the floor with his head still ringing, confusion and anger warring with pain. There was truth in what she said, and that was the worst part. She was right. He was just a bonder. The system couldn't help him, and neither could Robbie. He'd tell him the truth. Make a clean break. Robbie wouldn't want him once he found out about his past, anyway...

Sudden nausea at that thought bent Wyl double. Damn his sensitivity, and damn the way Robbie made him feel. He slowly got control of himself, breathing shallowly. He touched his head. It hurt, and his face still stung, but that was nothing compared to the sudden grief his soul was howling to express. He clamped down on it harshly. Now wasn't the time. Now would never be the time. He had to hold it together long enough to see Robbie and explain things. Then he could come back down here and fall to pieces. Maybe Danica would watch. 

***

In retrospect, Robbie was glad Jane had convinced him to spar. It had been a little hard on his ego getting kicked around so handily, and there were bruises developing under his arms from where she had dug her steely fingers into pressure points, but the workout had distracted him from thoughts of Wyl. Now it was nearly time for his ship to arrive, and instead of being wrought up with hours' worth of anxiety, he only had minutes of anticipation to torture him with. Inspector Doyle was standing next to him, so he didn't allow himself to fidget, just stared ahead at the docking bay where the ship would be arriving. Five minutes. Three minutes. The inspector wisely didn't try to make conversation. One minute...




Bonded Ch. 02



Robbie had to do a double take when the ship pulled in. It was hardly recognizable as the same one. A week ago the hull had been jagged, shield plates bent and twisted and pockmarked with holes. This ship was a little ragged, but everything fit together seamlessly. The bay repressurized, the doors unlocked, and Robbie walked inside. The ship's door opened, but it wasn't Wyl who got out, or the pilot he remembered from before. This man was taller and a little bulkier, with a hard face and thin lips. He walked over to them. "Marshal, Inspector."

"Your name, sir?" Robbie asked, a feeling of apprehension twisting in his gut.

"Mike Ebner. I'm the operations manager for Miss Jessom's Hazard mines."

"Is Mr. Leyton with you?"

"He's in the ship."

"Go and get him, please."

The man gave him a strange look. "I can answer any questions you have, Marshal Sinclair."

"I'm afraid you can't." Robbie was polite but cold. "Go and get him. Then Inspector Doyle will continue the review and go over the licensing paperwork with you." Robbie had to hand it to Doyle; he was the perfect straight man, not blinking at this change from the normal routine.

Mr. Ebner obviously didn't like it, but there wasn't much he could do. He walked back into the ship, and a few moments later Wyl walked out with him. Robbie's pulse sped up as soon as he saw him. He nodded his head at Doyle, and the smaller man moved smoothly forward, intercepting Ebner and drawing him back towards the ship while letting Wyl continue walking to Robbie. "Are you ready to fill me in?" Robbie asked for Mr. Ebner's benefit. Wyl nodded, and Robbie drew him back and out of the docking bay. As soon as the door shut, Wyl was in his arms.

"Not too friendly, is he," Robbie said with a grin. It felt so good to hold him again.

"You have no idea," Wyl mumbled against his chest. Robbie stroked one hand through his hair, but stopped when Wyl hissed slightly.

"What's wrong?" Robbie drew him back a little bit and gazed down at his face, then frowned. "Where did you get that bruise?"

"I took a fall on the ship."

Robbie ran his fingertips lightly over the raised lump just behind his temple. "Should we go to the medic?"

"No," Wyl said quickly. "No. I'm fine, really, I get worse all the time working with the machines."

"You're sure." Wyl's rapid nod reassured him somewhat, but Robbie knew something wasn't right. It wasn't the moment to push, however, Wyl looked fragile enough that a stiff breeze would blow him over. "Let's go to my place, then. I'll make you dinner. Do you like alfredo?"

"I've never had it," Wyl confessed.

"You've been living under a rock."

The sudden bitterness in Wyl's expression shocked him. "Yeah, I have."

Moved by a sudden impulse to comfort him, Robbie kissed his forehead and then his mouth, a brief kiss that seared him with desire, then embraced him again. "Then it's definitely time you tasted alfredo. C'mon, let's go home."

Wyl's whole body shuddered for a second, and he buried his face in the crook of Robbie's neck. Robbie didn't know what was wrong, he just knew that Wyl needed to be consoled, and so he stood with him in the hall, blind to the inquisitive glances, lightly stroking his back and shoulders until Wyl relaxed again. He didn't say anything else, even when Wyl pulled back and wouldn't meet his eyes. Robbie just held onto his hand and walked with him down the hall, back towards his apartment, glad Jane had insisted he take this shift and the next one off. He sensed he'd need the time.

***

I am such a fucking pussy. God, I am such a girl, Wyl berated himself as he gripped Robbie's hand, desperate to tell him the truth and get it over with but more desperate to wait and make love to him again before anything else could happen. One fucking touch and he went to pieces. A few kisses and he was like jelly. And then, when Robbie had used the word "home", it was like getting punched in the stomach. He wanted a home, and he wanted it to be with Robbie. It was ridiculous, presumptive, and impossible. Wyl was a lot of things, but he hadn't been naïve in a long time. As soon as he heard Robbie's voice again though, insisting he be brought out, a thrill of anticipation had coursed through his body. Then seeing him, and touching him, and being treated so tenderly...it was like a dream. Like a...what were they called...a fairy tale. And neither of those things had much of a bearing on reality.

He tried to watch Robbie as they walked, to memorize the way he moved, the curves of his body, but his eyes kept blurring with tears. So pathetic. Wyl hadn't cried for years, not since his last trip ended so badly and left him in so much pain. This dread, this terrible feeling of wanting someone so badly but knowing that your life was going to be hell soon and for all the foreseeable future, was pure agony. 

They got to his room, entered, and like before Wyl found he couldn't stop himself. His motives were different this time, though. He leaned into Robbie, plastering himself to his body, ignoring the trepidation he felt in favor of giving Robbie as much pleasure as he possibly could. Wyl tilted his head up and captured his mouth in a long, slow kiss, savoring every play and thrust of their tongues, Robbie's taste and the softness of his lips, and the feel of their bodies together. He held onto his broad shoulders, arching his back and pressing his hips to Robbie's, reveling in his embrace. When they finally separated a bit, Robbie had a wide grin on his face. "I'm beginning to think you don't really like my cooking."

"I just like you better." Wyl's voice was husky as he ground his hardening erection against Robbie's. His lover raised a hand and brushed at a tear he hadn't even realized was there.

"What's wrong?" The concern in his voice was both sweet and shaming.

"I'll tell you later. Just let me...I just need you right now."

"I need you back." Robbie kissed him and held him close, then picked him up in his arms and carried him back to the bedroom. Wyl had no intention of giving away the lead, however, and as soon as they lay down he thrust with his legs and rolled them over, so that he was on top.

"Please, let me do this." Wyl would have begged if he wasn't already so intent on Robbie's body, and his lover knew when to give. Robbie nodded and relaxed, and Wyl began to memorize him. He started at the top of his head, hands stroking the close-cut brown hair, then kissing the thin stripes of gray. He ran his fingertips across his hairline, over each eyebrow and down the bridge of his nose, following with his lips, nuzzling or kissing each spot. He brushed his tongue across Robbie's mouth, teased it open and went just a little way in, just far enough to get the taste of him, the warmth. He moved his lips and Robbie groaned in protest, reaching out to grab him and pull him in close.

"No," Wyl said as he pushed his lover's arms away. Robbie could have overpowered him easily, but he regained control of himself and gave Wyl a half-smile. Wyl kissed him again, then traced the contour of his jaw line with an index finger, then down the side of his neck, pressing his lips to his throat. Robbie groaned again and Wyl felt the vibration through his mouth. He licked down to the top of Robbie's collar and slowly began to pull the uniform away. Thankfully it was easy to undo, and Robbie was just as anxious to get it off. Wyl pulled the fabric over his lover's shoulders and off his arms, baring his chest. Curled golden hairs glinted in the faint light, trailing off down his abdomen and into his pants. Every muscle was defined, every plane was chiseled. It didn't hurt that Robbie was so amped up that every muscle was tense. 

Wyl stroked up and down Robbie's arms, finally resting his hands against his elbows and leaning in to capture a nipple with his mouth. Robbie inhaled sharply, his stomach tightening, and it tightened further when Wyl gently used his teeth. "Wyl, Wyl, fuck...you're making me crazy."

Wyl felt his lover's arms trembling with the desire to move, to grab and grip and clutch, and he appreciated Robbie's amazing control. He knew that if their roles were reversed, he would be pawing at his lover uncontrollably. He let go of the nipple and pressed his lips to Robbie's sternum, then his abdomen, then his belly button, working his way down slowly and keeping his hands on Robbie's arms, a reminder not to move. He dipped his tongue into the crevice, scraping lightly with his teeth and enjoying Robbie's response. Wyl moved his hands down to join the rest of his body and slowly, tantalizingly, eased the uniform over his hips, which Robbie raised eagerly. He nuzzled and nipped the point of each of Robbie's hipbones, then the hollow beside them, where the hair began to get thick again. His lover's erection strained at the fabric, and Wyl loved the scent of his need. He felt Robbie's hands touch his hair, surprisingly soft and gentle.

"Take it, Wyl, take it out." Robbie's tone was pleading and Wyl stopped in his trek down his body, knowing how he would feel if it was him. I can get him off more than once before this has to end. He stroked Robbie's erection through the fabric, then actually grinned when he heard Robbie growl. Wyl didn't tease him any more, just stripped the clothes away, paused for a long moment to take in the glory of his naked lover writhing beneath him, then leaned back in and gripped Robbie's dripping cock with one hand as he tongued his balls.

"Oh, fuck." Robbie bit his lower lip and moaned around his teeth. His legs flexed as Wyl kept licking him, finally moving up and dropping his mouth onto Robbie's cock. Robbie shuddered, and Wyl lost all sense of control. All he wanted was to get this man off, to make him scream with the ecstasy of it again and again, and then start all over. Wyl's world shrank to the perception of Robbie's cock only, and he pushed himself further than he had before, finally relaxing enough to deep throat his long member. 

Vaguely he heard his name being chanted, vaguely he felt hands touching him, but none of it penetrated his awareness. He kept up a steady pressure, rising and falling, sucking and stroking and rubbing a finger across Robbie's perineum as he did. He tasted so good...Robbie's breathing became catchy and his balls drew up, and moments later he was shooting into Wyl's mouth. Wyl captured all of his lover's essence, rolling it around on his tongue as he kept his mouth on Robbie's cock, sucking him dry and then sucking some more until Robbie groaned and tried to coax him off.

"Wyl..." His hands were on Wyl's shoulders, pulling, trying to get him to rise up and come back to his arms. Wyl didn't obey his instincts, though. Instead he sat back out of Robbie's reach, lightly touching his calves. 

"Roll over."

"I want to feel you..."

Listening to that sex-drugged voice begging for him was almost more than he could withstand, but Wyl knew he had more to do before he let himself be held. Otherwise he might morph into a crying pussy, and that would be a real turn-on. "You will. Roll over." It was gratifying when Robbie obeyed.

Wyl strokes his calves, caressing the smooth skin close to the ankles and behind the knees. He moved his hands up across Robbie's ass, getting harder when his lover moaned and arched slightly. He kept going, though, brushing his fingertips over the small of his back, up the channel of his spine and to the back of his neck, where he knew Robbie was so sensitive. All that sleek, beautiful skin, all those muscles, those cries and moans, were all for him. He draped his body, still clothed, over Robbie's back, kissing the base of his skull and nibbling the flesh of his neck as he worked his way down again.

"Wyl...ohh...yes..." His murmurs were like shots of adrenalin, pushing Wyl to perform. He slid back down to Robbie's ass, grabbing a pillow and sliding it under his eager hips, then focused all his attention on the beauty before him. He spread Robbie's cheeks apart with his hands, leaned in and touched his tongue to a point just below his hole. Robbie moaned into his pillow. Wyl worked his tongue down and then up again, circling his goal but not yet touching it. "Bastard."

Wyl grinned despite himself. He could tell Robbie was getting hard again, and he didn't want to deny himself for much longer either. He thrust his tongue forward suddenly, burying his tongue in Robbie's ass, and for a while there was nothing but his mouth worshipping this sweet spot, this warm, tight hole that spasmed and gripped him with lust and need. He tongue-fucked Robbie until he felt him get tight again, in preparation to come. Then Wyl pulled back.

"Wyl." Oh, his lover was frustrated now. Frustrated and horny, just like he wanted him. "Get in me now, just get inside of me, I want you so badly..."

"Roll over," Wyl told him as he threw his own clothes off. It was almost funny how fast Robbie obeyed and pulled his knees back. Wyl pushed them back down. "No."

"What do you mean no?" The question went out of Robbie's eyes as Wyl moved forward and straddled his waist. Sudden caution warred with his desire. "Wyl, you're not ready yet."

"I don't need to be ready." Before Robbie could say anything else, Wyl impaled himself on his cock, fast and hard. He bit back a shout at the burning he felt, the sudden throbbing pain. He wanted pain. He didn't want Robbie to be sweet to him, to prepare him, to make love to him now. He just wanted to get him off. His eyes were squeezed closed, his jaw clenched as he struggled to relax.

Wyl suddenly felt Robbie's hands on his hips. "Baby."

"Don't say that," he ground out. "Just...just let me..." The roving hands moved up his hips, brushing his flagging cock and rekindling a feeling of pleasure inside of him.

"Baby, look at me."

"Robbie, don't..."

"Wyl." Suddenly their positions were reversed, and his knees were up beside Robbie's shoulders. 

"How did you do that so fast?" Wyl managed.

"Ju jutsu." Robbie touched his face gently. "And motivation. Wyl, I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"I don't care about the pain."

"You said that before, and I believe you." He kissed him, still gentle. "But I guess you didn't believe me then either. I don't want to hurt you, Wyl. Not now, not ever. Certainly not just so I can get off. You're so beautiful." Robbie moved back and forth inside of him slightly. "You feel so good." He rocked again, and Wyl whimpered as the pain was transformed. "I love being inside of you. I love being with you, and making love to you. I love it when you take control, and the only thing I don't ever want you to do is forget yourself." He moved again, deeper, and they both groaned. "Because I would never forget you. I never could. Wyl..." They fell into a rhythm, both men feeling the swell of passion. "God, I dreamed about you. I dreamed about you just like this, with me."

"I love being with you," Wyl moaned. All his pain was gone, and now he felt his orgasm building fast, making up for lost time. "I love you." Fuck, what did I just say?

Robbie grinned suddenly. "Say it again."

"I..."

"Say it." He stilled his movements. "Or else."

"You fucking sadist."

"Say it, baby. Say it again." He began to withdraw slowly...

"I love you!" Wyl hadn't meant to shout, but that was how it came out. Robbie slid back home with a satisfied sigh. "I fucking love you, I love you, I love you. Happy now?"

Robbie caught his gaze. Wyl was surprised at the depths of emotion he saw in those pale blue eyes. "Yes, I am." He started to thrust again, vigorously, pulling his hips back until just the head stayed inside and then slamming back in. "I love you, too."

It was like someone flipped a switch in Wyl's head. It was what he had hoped for, what he had wanted, and what he desperately feared. All that coupled with the pleasure his body was coping with overloaded his system. He cried out hoarsely, back arching and legs fighting to straighten as he orgasmed, coming over and over and over across his stomach and Robbie's. Robbie held him steady through it, somehow controlling himself until Wyl's leg spasms began to relax before pouring himself into his lover, thrusting a few last times and whispering Wyl's name. Wyl felt Robbie slowly revive, lean forward and lick the tears spilling down his cheeks, tears he couldn't control. "Baby." He couldn't make himself move yet, it was all he could do to remember to breathe. And now he couldn't stop crying.

***

"Fuck," Robbie muttered under his breath. Wyl was pretty far gone, and it didn't seem like he had gone to a friendly place. "Baby, relax." He stroked his face, smoothing away tears, brushing the lashes of Wyl's staring eyes with his thumb. "It's okay. It's okay, you're all right." He kissed his cheeks and his collarbone, then slowly pulled out of Wyl. He moved back to stand up, to get a washcloth, but a sound like pain came from Wyl's throat. Robbie sank back down beside him. "It's okay, Wyl. I'm here with you, I won't leave you." Fuck, what happened to make him go through this? He laid there with Wyl, facing his side, holding him close. Wyl's eyes were still open, unseeing, and occasional tears fell, but gradually his little tremors went away. Finally he sighed suddenly, deeply, and then closed his eyes.

"That's it, baby." Robbie kissed his shoulder, stroking Wyl's far arm with his fingertips. He forced himself to be patient. There were a million questions he wanted to ask, but he knew Wyl couldn't take all of that at once right now. What had just happened was...amazing. Robbie closed his eyes for a moment and let the memory of that sensation, being inside of Wyl and hearing him say that he loved him, wash over his body. Pleasant goose bumps erupted across his skin. Loved him...he loved him. It had been a long time since anyone had said that to him, long before he and Garrett had split, and even longer since it had been so genuine. Wyl loved him. And Robbie loved him back. He knew that, he had realized it during their week of separation, but he hadn't been able to say it first. It took Wyl, emotional, uninhibited Wyl to open the door. Well, now the door was wide open...but he wasn't sure what was on the other side. Something was wrong with Wyl, bothering him immensely, and he needed to know what.

"You awake?" he asked after a while.

"Yes." Wyl's voice was a whisper.

"You okay?"

"I...guess so."

Robbie kissed his shoulder again. "What are you so afraid of?"

For a long moment Wyl didn't answer. Robbie just waited, as patient as he could. Finally Wyl spoke again. "I'm afraid of you."

Well, that was disconcerting. "Why? Did I hurt you?"

"No!" Wyl's voice turned anxious, wanting to appease. "You're so good, you're too good, and I'm afraid because...I know I don't deserve you. I know we can't really be together."

"Because you're a bonder?" Maybe that was what had him so wrought up. "I don't care about that, Wyl. We'll find a way to be together. I'll help pay off your bond if you'll let me."

"My bond isn't all monetary." Wyl's expression twisted and he rolled away from Robbie. Robbie sensed he was treading on dangerous ground.

"Why is that?"

"I got into the system for using drugs." Wyl's voice sped up now, as though he wanted to get it all out of his system before Robbie had a chance to push him away. "My parents owned a shipyard on Parthea, but they made some bad decisions and fell into bankruptcy. They committed suicide and the business was seized by the government. I...I didn't take it very well. Any of it. I had an inheritance, but I blew it all on drugs. Eventually the marshals found me and took me to a hospital. I was detoxed and the judge slapped a bond on me. Five years and six thousand credits."

Well, that was a hell of a revelation. Robbie could feel Wyl shivering. He didn't move his hand from his shoulder. "What kind of drugs?"




Bonded Ch. 02



"Angel dust."

"What?" That was heavy duty. "How many times did you use it?"

"Five times." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Five times?" Robbie's mind was reeling. "No one should be able to survive five uses; it usually fries the brain after three no matter the dose."

"I don't know why I lasted as long as I did." Wyl's tone was resigned now. "I wasn't trying to survive, but I didn't want to go the way my parents did either. My last trip, though, it left me hypersensitive. Everything was louder, brighter, sharper than it should have been. When the marshals found me, I was screaming...at least that's what they said, I can't remember it. All I remember is the pain. I do have modifications, but they send me the other way. Instead of increasing my reactions, they put me back down into the normal range. That's how I heard Jane outside of your door last time. Everything is still kind of...sharp. After I recovered, the judge laid my sentence out. Six thousand credits for my hospital bill, and a year of service for each trip." He laughed without humor. "She had a poetic sense of justice."

Wyl's body was as tense as a wire, not moving under Robbie's hand. Robbie was still as well, considering. Finally he spoke. "I still don't see why we can't be together."

"What?" Wyl rolled around to face him suddenly. "I just told you I'm a criminal and a druggie and you still want us to be together?"

"Yes."

Wyl looked totally confused. "Why? You could do so much better."

Robbie had to grin at the look on Wyl's face. "I don't understand how I could do better than being with the person I love." He leaned forward and kissed Wyl's gaping mouth. "I think that would be impossible."

"But you're a marshal, you're supposed to lock up guys like me!"

"I am," Robbie agreed. "You're already paying for what you did, and from the sound of things you paid a price before you even became a bonder. You aren't on drugs now, apart from caffeine, right?" Wyl numbly nodded. "Then it isn't an issue with me. Wyl, when I told you I loved you, I didn't mean that I loved just part of you, or half of you, or just your dick or anything like that. I mean that I love you, and you'd have to do something pretty insane to make me second guess that." Robbie held Wyl's eyes with his own, making sure he understood and believed him.

"I...it still won't work." Wyl shook his head.

"Are you throwing obstacles at me for the fun of it?"

"No!" Robbie couldn't help himself; he had to laugh when he saw Wyl's shocked expression. Some of the tension went out of Wyl's body, and after a second he chuckled.

Robbie reached over and pulled Wyl into his arms. He was still sticky from their lovemaking, but that was the last thing Robbie cared about at that moment. All he wanted was to hold his lover, his love, to comfort him and make him believe that they could be a reality. "Tell me why it won't work."

"Because the woman who owns my bond is a psychopath," Wyl mumbled against his chest. "She's gotten kind of obsessed with me and there's no way she'll let me go anywhere. I was lucky to get back up this time."

"She wouldn't be willing to transfer your bond, then?"

"Not a chance."

Robbie considered his options. Disappointing Wyl wasn't one of them. "What if she was ordered to transfer it?"

"You can't do that."

"I personally can't. But you're still a citizen of Parthea, and they have the ultimate control over where your bond goes. And I have a few favors I can call in. I think I could get you transferred."

"You're shitting me." Disbelief warred with longing in Wyl's voice.

"I'm not. Even if those fall through, from what I've seen of the way your boss does business, she doesn't run a clean operation. It might be time to audit her."

"How would you justify that?"

"She was paying a bribe to let that ship dock here without a license. And people expect me to be an asshole, so no one will be surprised if I order an investigation."

"You really could do that?"

"Yes." Robbie knew it wouldn't be easy, but Garrett owed him more than a few favors, and Garrett's father was a Federation senator. Parthea was a member of the Federation, so there were several options from that angle. He turned his head so that he looked into Wyl's eyes. "I don't even want to let you out of my sight, much less go back to Hazard. I won't let you stay there any longer than I have to, even if it means hijacking a ship and picking you up myself."

"You're serious."

"Yes."

"You're really serious."

"I am absolutely serious."

"How can you feel that way about me, when you barely know me?" There was a suggestion of wonder in his voice, and the expression on his face made him look younger, more innocent. He was so beautiful. He was more than beautiful, he was a real person, not just a spoiled child of wealth and privilege, not a slave who had been beaten so many times he was broken. He was strong and smart and had a delicious sense of humor, and he wanted Robbie. He loved him. That was the most amazing thing of all.

"How couldn't I?" Robbie asked quietly.

"I don't deserve you."

"You won't convince me of that by repeating it." Robbie swirled his index finger around one of Wyl's nipples. "We should clean up. Then I'll make you that dinner I promised."

"Good, I'm starving." There was lightness in Wyl's face now, a happiness that Robbie hadn't expected. He hadn't realized the kind of burden Wyl was carrying around until it was gone. 

"C'mon, then. Let's rinse off."

***

Wyl fell asleep right after they finished eating. The combination of exhaustion, food and sudden relief were too compelling to resist. Robbie watched him sleep for a moment, then closed the bedroom door and walked over to the couch. He sat down and activated the messaging system connected to his holoscreen. He entered Garrett's number and waited. More than likely he'd get the canned message...yep, here it was. A tall, slender blonde man with golden brown skin, wearing a tailored-to-fit silk suit in shades of blue, appeared on the holoscreen. He smiled, lips parting over perfect teeth. "What a terrible shame we're missing each other right now. Tell me everything and I'll respond in kind." Then his picture disappeared, to be replaced by the image of a blinking red light bulb. Robbie rolled his eyes. Garrett was such a clown.

"Garrett, its Robbie. I have a favor to ask." He went on to give Wyl's name and planet of origin, then detailed his situation without getting too far into his own developing relationship with Wyl. He was about to sign off when the red bulb abruptly disappeared and a disheveled, wild-looking Garrett appeared in the screen. He was wearing a white robe and his body was glistening as though he'd been working out.

"Robbie?"

"Gare." Robbie arched one eyebrow. "I'm interrupting you?"

"We'd just finished, darling." There was his smile again, coy and predatory at the same time. "He's resting now, sweet thing." He narrowed his eyes. "Are you naked too? I can only see you from the shoulders up. C'mon, let's see some more of that beautiful bod."

"I'd rather keep you in the dark."

"You're absolutely no fun these days, Robbie." Garrett pouted slightly.

"That's why I'm over here and you're over there. Did you hear the message?"

"Yes. I wasn't expecting to hear from you at all, and certainly not about getting some bonder's debt transferred."

"I'm full of surprises," Robbie said flatly. "Can you help?"

"So impatient, darling, why don't you relax a bit?" Garrett stretched back languorously on his couch, making no effort to cover himself when the robe slipped open. "First some pleasantries. Tell me how you've been."

"Busy."

"Raising hell is what I hear."

"Where did you hear that?" Robbie asked.

"Robbie, darling. We spent three years together, don't blame me for being curious." He sighed. "And I heard it from my father, if you must know. I half suspect he loves you better than he does me, from how often he brings you up."

"We always got along well." It was a relief to hear that the general had been keeping tabs on him, in a way. It made what he was trying to do now easier.

"Be honest with me, Robbie." Garrett cocked his head slightly. "Who is this bonder to you? I don't think you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart. Some days it was difficult to tell whether you even had a heart."

"Oh, it was there. You just never bothered to look for it."

"And this Wyl Leyton has?" There was more than a hint of jealousy in his voice, but some genuine pain in his expression as well. Robbie sighed. 

"Gare, it's none of your business."

"He has, hasn't he? You've found a new lover."

"You can hardly cast stones at me for that."

Garrett was silent for a moment. "You know, you never did tell me what I did wrong. You think I just decided to look at other guys one day because I was bored? You've never been very affectionate, Robbie, and you got less so as time went on. You just expected me to be there when you got back from the front. So tell me now, if you please, where I went wrong, and what this guy has done that's so right."

Robbie didn't like to think about it, but he knew Garrett was right. He deserved an explanation. "I wasn't as good to you as I should have been. I know that. I didn't always put you first. But I did love you, Gare. I was never good at saying it, but I tried to show you I loved you. Eventually, though, that wasn't enough. You were annoyed at me for seeming to ignore you, so you sought affection elsewhere. Whereas I didn't want to share. We never really talked about it." He shrugged. "You seem well, though. You look happy. I hope you've found something that works for you. If you have any affection left for me at all, please, help me with this. Help me with Wyl."

Garrett shifted on the couch, drawing his knees up. "I made mistakes, too. I'm sorry about that." He brushed some long blonde hairs away from his face and sighed. "The least I can do is help you now. I'll send a message to my father about it, and about his employer as well. Maybe he can dredge up a good reason to look into her business." He grinned. "I'll mark it as 'urgent'."

"Thank you," Robbie said earnestly. "You don't know how much I appreciate it."

"No, but I wish I did." He smiled slightly. "I hope Wyl appreciates your fine-looking ass." He covered a yawn with his hand. "I'm sending your message, and then I'm going back to bed."

"Thanks again, Gare. Sleep soundly."

"As soundly as I can, darling." The screen suddenly went black, and then faded to the same color as the walls. Robbie sat back on the couch and shut his eyes. He hadn't seen Garrett for...over a month. Almost a month and a half. It didn't hurt to see him, not really. It did hurt to have his failings illustrated so pointedly by his former lover. Garrett was right, he'd been too caught up with his work to give Garrett the kind of attention he needed. He was like a show animal, beautiful and high strung and in need of constant companionship. Robbie hadn't taken the time to make him feel special, and so he'd strayed.

The question was, would he do any better this time around? Robbie tended to obsess over his work, and he knew it. What if Wyl got tired of it? Tired of being alone? Tired of fighting for attention? Robbie was going to try harder, he was going to do better, but he also knew he would make mistakes. He just had to hope that Wyl would be patient with him.

The air shifted slightly as the bedroom door opened, and after a moment Wyl's warm body curled up next to him. Robbie opened his eyes. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Did I wake you up with that?"

"Not you," Wyl shook his head. "I heard some strange guy's voice and wondered what he was doing in here with you. I listened in a little before figuring out it was the message system. Sorry for eavesdropping."

"It's not a problem."

"So that was the last boyfriend?"

"Yeah," Robbie shrugged. "It went better than it could have. At least he's going to help you."

Wyl snorted. "He couldn't care less about me. It's you he's interested in helping. I bet if you went over there and asked for him to take you back, he'd do it."

Robbie grinned. "Feeling a little jealous?"

"Hell yes, I am." Wyl slid over Robbie's body until he was on his lap, legs straddling his lover's thighs, facing him. "I don't intend to share you. At all. With anyone. And if I ever think you're neglecting me, I'll jump you and make you mine all over, just to jog your memory."

"You promise? I can be a fool sometimes."

"Then you'll be my fool." Wyl kissed him, strong hands sliding underneath his arms and up his back. He pressed his chest against Robbie's and Robbie could feel both of them getting hard-

His comm. buzzed from the bedroom. Robbie pulled away and cursed. "Motherfuckers." He squeezed his eyes shut, tightening his jaw for a moment, then let his breath out explosively. "Fuck, I have to answer this."

"If you must, you must."

Robbie stood up and lifted Wyl with him, holding him close as he walked back into his bedroom. He maneuvered Wyl down into the bed and immediately pressed kisses to his chest, then this abdomen, then the tip of his growing cock. Wyl tried to grab him but he evaded and groped about his abandoned uniform until he found the comm. "What?"

"Grumpy, grumpy." Jane's voice sounded loud even through the tiny little unit. "Sorry to interrupt your revelries, boss-man, but Mr. Ebner is getting impatient. The ship has been cleared and he's finished his transactions. He's threatening to complain to the station master than we're deliberately stalling him."

"We are."

"Yes, but he doesn't need to know that," Jane tutted through the mike. "Sorry, sir. Get some clothes on your sweet young thing and yourself and get to the docks before this becomes an incident."

"On our way." He shut off the comm. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He looked over at his reclining lover. "Sorry baby, this is going to have to keep until next time."

"You're going to leave me frustrated?" Wyl groaned.

"I'll make it up to you. I promise."

"I'll hold you to that."

***

Wyl couldn't decide if he was elated or depressed. He vacillated between joy and sorrow in the space of a heartbeat. Robbie loved him, and that was perfect. Robbie was trying to arrange for him to get transferred here, and that was fantastic. However, Robbie wouldn't be with him soon. Who knew how long it would take for something to get done? If anything could really be done at all? For now it was back to the ship, back to Hazard and cold and Danica. Wyl felt panic rising in his throat and forced it down.

They reached the docks. Just outside the door, Robbie turned to him and embraced him, drawing him in close. "Don't worry. I'll make this happen."

Wyl's throat was tight, but he managed to say, "I'll be waiting." He lifted his face and they kissed, warmly but far too quickly, and then Robbie pulled away and opened the door. 

"It's best if you go in alone, your pilot already has the ship prepped."

"All right," Wyl agreed. He took two steps inside before turning around and throwing himself back at Robbie. He pulled their faces together into a hard, burning kiss, assaulting his lover with his lips and tongue and hands until finally Wyl had to pull back for air. Robbie's eyes looked glazed and his lips were swollen. 

"So you can't forget how much I love you," Wyl breathed in his ear, then let him go, turned and strode off towards the ship, ignoring the painful ache in his groin and the worse one in his heart. It hurt so badly to leave him...but just for a time. A short time. Then Robbie would come after him.

He boarded the Wreck and pulled the pressure door shut behind him. Slowly he walked to the cockpit and sat down, ignoring the look Mike gave him as he strapped himself in. They got clearance to leave, the docking doors opened, and in moments they were drifting out into space again. Wyl watched the station get smaller and smaller and tried not to shiver. Back to the cold. Away from the warmth.

The two men sat in silence for awhile, until Mike had secured their course. Then he put the ship on autopilot and turned to Wyl. "So he's your lover."

"What?"

"The marshal. He's your lover." Mike shook his head. "Danica will have a fit when she finds that out."

A cold sense of dread crept over Wyl. "She doesn't need to know."

"It's my job to tell her."

"The fuck it is!" Wyl snapped. "She doesn't have to know anything about it because it's none of her business. It has nothing to do with her business. You don't have to tell her."

"Maybe not," Mike agreed, his small hard eyes boring into Wyl's face. "Not if you make it worth my while."

"What?" The dread was fast being replaced with anger. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

Mike was quiet for a long moment, examining Wyl. "I can see why she wants you," he said at last. "Pretty, for a boy. Delicate. Almost like a woman, but stronger, a little more...firm."

"What are you getting at, Mike?" Wyl asked quietly.

"I want you to suck me off," Mike replied. He swiveled in his chair, facing Wyl fully, one hand stroking the outline of his bulge. "I want that pretty mouth wrapped around my dick. Get me off, or I tell Danica about your boyfriend."

"No way in hell."

"Think twice," Mike encouraged him with a sneer. "Think about what Danni will do to you if she finds out. Hell, I wouldn't want to be responsible for what could happen."

"You don't have to be. Just don't tell her."

Mike shook his head. "Not an option. Either you get down on your knees right now and suck me off, or Danica gets the details." He laughed suddenly. "It isn't as if you wouldn't prefer to do it with me anyway."

The anger, which had been faltering under the prospect of facing Danica, flamed into outright rage. Going from making love to Robbie to getting on his knees and satisfying this opportunistic son of a bitch was just too much of a shift. He couldn't do it. He couldn't even contemplate it, no matter what the fallout was. "Fuck you."

Mike sat still for a moment, then shrugged. "Have it your way, then."

Wyl couldn't stand to be there a moment longer. He threw off his harness, shot up out of the seat and walked as fast as he could manage to the back of the ship, where a tight little storage closet held extra equipment. Wyl opened it, got inside and shut the door behind him. It was dark, but he needed the dark right now.

She'll kill me. As soon as she finds out. He knew it like he knew his love for Robbie. The easiest thing would be to give in to Mike, but he couldn't. I can hide, somewhere. Soon as we land, I'll run. God, I hope Robbie works fast. 

The trip back seemed interminable. Wyl sat in the closet for most of the trip. There were a few things in there he figured he could use, as well as one of his old rucksacks to put the equipment in. Things that would help if he had to hole up. The flashlight was a good start...

He didn't bother strapping in for the landing, and Mike didn't call to him. His blood thrummed through his veins, and his heightened senses felt the change in pressure on the ship, the temperature shift, the slow lowering of the ship smoothly into the docking bay. As soon as the Wreck touched down he was into the hallway and opening the pressure door. He didn't even bother to lower the ramp, just hopped down onto the floor. Danica was there, and she didn't look happy. 

"That took way too long-"

"Talk to Mike, he can tell you everything." Wyl evaded her and walked quickly towards the door, ignoring her shrill protest. He had to be gone before Mike told her about Robbie.

Where to go, where to go...a few more tools wouldn't go amiss, maybe he'd have the time to grab some. He had to go through the mess hall to get to the shop, it was the central location in the base. He entered it at a run and turned to the left-




Bonded Ch. 03



This is the final chapter of a story I started several months ago. Reading the earlier chapters will help, but I hope you enjoy this piece regardless. Many thanks to pebo, a wonderful editor and friend, for her help.

***

"Rise and shine, baby."

"Mmngh."

"Sorry, that excuse doesn't cut it." Click. The lights came on. Wyl Leyton moaned an unintelligible curse under his breath and rolled over to face the pillows, pulling the blanket over his head. A strong hand caressed his shoulder through the fabric, gentle and coaxing. "C'mon, sleepyhead. T's restaurant is opening today, you said you'd help him finish setting up."

"Why did I do that?" Wyl groaned. 

"Because you're a nice person, maybe."

"Me? Nah. Confusing me with someone else." He pulled the blanket tighter over his head. "You go, tell him I'm dying and can't make it."

The voice erupted in a low, reverberating laugh. Wyl could feel the vibrations as his lover leaned across his back. "Are you going to make me beat you with a pillow?"

"You won't challenge me to a pillow fight, I always win."

"Maybe," his lover agreed. "But since I need to get up and go to work, I'll have to leave you alone here while I get ready. I'll fill the tub with hot, soothing water. I'll rub soap into a lather all over my body. I'll slowly rinse it down the drain, making sure I've gotten every last bit off my skin. I'll dry off, and dress, and get breakfast. All alone. What a waste." His tone brightened from sultry to cheeky. "Sleep well!" Then he got up out of the bed and walked into the bathroom, leaving the door open.

Wyl listened in silence for a few moments as Robbie turned on the water. He was humming faintly, and seemed in a ridiculously good mood. But then, he was like this almost every morning. Just my luck to fall in love with an early riser. Especially considering how late some of their nights had been running...

Wyl smiled into his pillow. Robbie Sinclair was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he knew it. He was handsome, honest and loving. He gave everyone he met the benefit of a doubt, a rare quality in a marshal. He was a fantastic lover, a fierce friend and a good cook. And for some reason, he had found something to love in Wyl. All of those excellent traits meant Wyl could forgive certain things, like his predilection for waking up early and actually enjoying it. Wyl had been forced to get up early for years, but not once had he ever relished the experience.

Robbie's humming turned to singing, something French probably, that was his latest kick. Wyl could hear inviting splashing sounds. "Fuuuuuck," he sighed, then reluctantly threw off the covers, staggered to his feet and made his way into the bathroom. "Are you done being cute?" he growled, pushing back long, tangled strands of black hair.

"I can't fathom what you mean," Robbie replied with a broad smile. He was sitting in the large, circular tub, leaning back against the rim. "But I prefer the word 'enticing'. Cute seems more like a word someone would use to describe you." He waved a hand. "Get in."

Wyl walked over and slid into the hot water, wincing slightly. "You like your men boiled, I see."

"Cute and grumpy this morning." Robbie shifted around until he was beside Wyl and pulled him into an embrace. "Didn't get enough sleep last night, huh?"

"Because you're insatiable," Wyl replied with a genuine grin. 

"You love it. Scoot forward." Wyl did so, and Robbie slid in behind him, rubbed some soap onto his shoulders and began to massage in long, smooth strokes. "Do you still have tomorrow off?"

"Yeah. The shop is letting me count today as a labor day, since I'll still be working on the station." Wyl was a bonder, paying off his legal and monetary debts to society by working where his skills as a spaceship mechanic were needed. His bond had been transferred to the station six months ago, and he was paying it off fast.

"Then it's a good thing you got up, huh." Robbie nuzzled the back of Wyl's head. 

"Not for that reason," Wyl countered. "T works me harder than the shop ever does, and I'm an incompetent cook, as you know." It was sad but true. Wyl's few previous attempts at making an edible meal had ended in blackened crustiness, excruciating spiciness and, on one memorable occasion, the oven erupting into flames. Since then he'd used some of the money he held back from paying the bond to order food for them whenever it was his turn.

Robbie ran his hands down Wyl's back and around to his abdomen. "But don't you appreciate the variety?"

Wyl stifled a groan. "I love variety...just not cooking." His pulse sped up as Robbie reached forward and cupped him in his hands. He began to harden instantly. "Oh god..." He pushed his ass back against Robbie's cock so it was wedged between his cheeks. Robbie paused a moment to pour some of the bath oil over his hand before reaching down again and stroking Wyl's cock under the hot water. The motions were long and slow, and so much better than a shoulder massage. It was ridiculous how quickly Robbie's touch could reduce him to a quivering, whimpering, need-driven pile of flesh. Wyl leaned his head back until it rested on his lover's shoulder, turning his face to kiss Robbie's neck. He loved feeling those hands engulf him, moving against his cock, so hot and slick. Robbie stroked faster, fisting him harder. "Wait...you..."

"Later," Robbie promised in a husky voice. "I want to feel you come in my hand." He moved his thumb up onto the head, rolling the pad around in a circle. His other arm held Wyl's body tight against him, crushing them together as his mouth found Wyl's ear. He sucked the earlobe into his mouth, then lightly bit down on it.

"Oh, fuck." Wyl wrapped a hand around the back of his lover's neck and pulled him even closer as he felt his orgasm start. "Robbie, now, yes..."

"Baby." The sound of that deep, sultry purring in his ear sent Wyl over the edge and he came with a gasp, the heat and pressure driving the air from his body until he was spent and lying boneless in the water, only upright thanks to Robbie's hold on him. He caught his breath after a few minutes, just relaxing, closing his eyes and enjoying the rise and fall of Robbie's chest beneath him, and the feel of his cock tight against his ass. "Don't fall asleep again," Robbie murmured, sounding amused.

"How could I sleep with you poking me like that?" Wyl countered, forcing his eyes open. "You should let me take care of you, before you accidentally impale someone in the hallway or something."

"I'll be careful, but we both have to get going. Today's my conduct review."

Wyl's ardor began to fade immediately. "Are you serious? I thought it wasn't until next week."

"Things got moved forward. I would have mentioned it last night, but I got distracted early on." He was smiling, but Wyl could tell he was tense. He moved forward out of Robbie's embrace and turned to face him.

"Who did they get to be the presiding officer?"

Robbie shrugged. "I don't know yet. Everything was adjusted. My lawyer says it shouldn't be an issue who the officer is, since the evidence of wrongdoing on Danica's part is fairly overwhelming and we had Leesie's message to go on, but I could get a reprimand for not passing the information along the proper channels. And I probably shouldn't have hijacked that ship, in retrospect."

"If you hadn't, I'd be dead." Wyl still felt cold at the memory of T being shot and the two of them nearly freezing to death before help arrived. When Danica Jessom was imprisoned and her mining operation was seized, Wyl's bond had been transferred to the station. He had just half a year left to go to finish it.

All of that was a wonderful conclusion to a shitty situation for Wyl, but it meant that Robbie was in hot water. There were interrogations, mental and physical examinations, a few counseling sessions. People weren't supposed to display such a blatant disregard for the chain of command, and despite being the ranking marshal on the station, regulations stated he had officially fucked up by not informing his regional commander first. Fortunately it was his first official fuckup, so instead of waiting for his trial in the brig he was allowed to continue working while the case was investigated. Today was the day he would get his official review, and whatever merit or punishment he was getting would be handed out.

Wyl must have looked nervous, because Robbie leaned in and kissed him softly. "Don't worry about it. I doubt anything serious will come of it. Besides," he looked Wyl up and down, "I'd say you're worth it."

"I love you."

Robbie smiled, that special, kind of silly smile that came to his face whenever Wyl said those words. "I love you too. Now soap, rinse, out. I'll try to find you for lunch."

Ten minutes later Wyl was dry, dressed and heading for the fifteenth level of the station, where T's restaurant was located. He was also starving, since they hadn't had time to eat. Residual pleasure and hunger battled in his brain but at least when he got to T's, he managed to say "Good morning," before following it with "I need food."

"I knew it." T shook his head mock-disparagingly, handing over a pre-made plate and a fork followed by a cup of the thickest, blackest coffee he could brew. "You cost me more in supplies than you earn by helping."

"Be happy you can afford me," Wyl shot back around a mouthful, washing it down with the coffee. "At least I can stand your winning personality. Tell me Leesie will be your hostess, you need someone up front who won't scare the customers away."

"Are you kidding? You think I can pry her away from her work now that she's official again?" He tried to sound annoyed, but the expression on his face was more satisfied than anything else. "She loves it, wouldn't give it up for anything. Plus she's thick as thieves with Jane." Jane Freeman was Robbie's second in command.

"Damn. You're screwed."

"Yeah. Got a good staff lined up, but the opening isn't until five, so none of them are in yet. What I need you to do is get things prepped in the kitchen."

Wyl scooped the last bite of his cayenne-flavored eggs and sausage into his mouth and swallowed fast. "You want me working in the kitchen? Red light, red light, big mistake."

"All I need is for things to be taken out of fridges to thaw, vegetables washed, counters cleaned. There's a list in the back." T reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small round package. "And you need to wear this."

Wyl took the small thing, shook it out, and then groaned. "A hairnet? C'mon, T."

"You're working with food, you're working in my kitchen, you're wearing this." He was inexorable. "I don't want to have to explain to a customer how a long black hair got into their jambalaya. And wash your hands."

"Anything else, mommy?"

"Yes." He pointed at Wyl's plate. "Wash that too."

"You have an industrial capacity autoclave, and you want me to wash one dish in it?"

T rolled his eyes. "By hand, pretty boy. I want to keep the kitchen clear. Damn, you've gotten spoiled since you've been living here. I remember when you thought it was a holiday if you only worked sixteen hours."

"Yeah." A faint tightness came to Wyl's throat, and he looked away. "Bad times."

"Yeah." T shook his head. "Sorry I mentioned it."

"Never mind." Wyl sighed and put on the hairnet, tucking in the loose strands. "To work, I guess."

Actually, Wyl enjoyed working with Taylor that morning. He and T had always gotten along well, and despite his bitching it was kind of nice to be doing something besides welding. He'd finished washing about a million stalks of celery and was starting in on carrots when T joined him back at the counter. "Keep going, I'll cut, you wash." They worked in comfortable silence for a few minutes before T asked, "So, things still good with you and Robbie?"

From anyone other than Taylor or Leesie it would have been an invasive question. Wyl didn't open up very often, but he was all smiles now. "Perfect, thanks."

"Perfect? Well, now." T sliced a celery stick with small, rapid strokes of his knife. "That's good."

"It is..."

"Uh-huh. I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"Knew there was a caveat coming."

"You don't even know what that means," Wyl protested, but he knew T was right. There was something inside of him that couldn't help but feel anxious, a small but constant strain.

"So, what's not perfect about Mr. Perfect?" T kept his eyes down, concentrating on chopping vegetables to keep Wyl more comfortable.

"It's not that anything's wrong. It's that it's so right." It was hard for Wyl to articulate what he was worried about. Even as he said it, it didn't make sense to him. "It's scarily perfect. Part of me keeps waiting for things to fail, you know? It's like everything is going way too well for it to possibly continue. I want to be ready for the letdown, but I can't make myself stop needing him."

"Nor should you." T moved a pile of chopped carrots into an oxygen-tight container and swept them off to the side. "Why borrow trouble when there's plenty for free? Nothing is perfect all the time, not even the best relationship. There are times Leesie makes me want to chew glass, just so I feel a different kind of pain. Those times are rare, though, and I know I give her a hell of a lot more trouble than she gives me." He shrugged and reached for another stack of veggies. "You stay with them through the good and the bad, because you could never think of being with anyone else. You sacrifice for them, because you know they'd do the same for you. You forgive them because you need their forgiveness. That kind of like how you feel?"

"I...don't know, yet."

"You will eventually. Everyone gets there. You either get over it, or you end it."

"Have you been drinking?"

"Why?"

"Because I've never heard you wax poetic before." Wyl tried to pass it off as lighthearted, and T took pity on him.

"I have the soul of a poet, I'll have you know."

"And a mind like a dumpster."

"Watch it, boy, or I'll keep you on vegetables all day," T warned.

"What could possibly be more fun than this?"

"Folding napkins."

Wyl blinked. "What?"

"Into the shape of swans."

"You're fucking kidding me."

"Not at all." T smiled evilly. "It should only take a couple dozen to get the folds right. Then you can do the next few hundred no problem. In fact, maybe you should get started now."

"Right. Great." Fuck.

***

Robbie walked briskly down the hall to his office, making up for lost time with long strides. He should still have a couple of hours to kill before his review, and it wouldn't help to go over things with the lawyer again, so he could take the time to relax a little. Maybe Wyl had been right, maybe he had needed some attention this morning. He felt a little on edge now. Maybe it was the review. 

Maybe? It was definitely the review. Robbie knew he had done the right thing, the only thing, but it was disconcerting after so many years with a flawless record to be before a review board now. He needed quiet, he needed relaxation...he opened the door to his office and walked inside. Damn. Well, there went that idea.

"Boss man!" Jane threw him a relaxed salute from her chair, flipping aside one of her dreadlocks with her index finger. "I was wondering if we'd have to hunt you down." She smiled slyly at Leesie Paulsen, the station's newest marshal and Jane's new best friend. "Could have been fun, actually."

"Not enough of a challenge, we knew where he'd be," Leesie retorted, but her attitude was a little more subdued. "Are you okay, sir?"

"Fine. Didn't I assign both of you duty shifts today?" He shut the door and walked around the slender, transparent desk to his chair.

"Yes, but we were both excused by the visiting brass, in case he needs to ask us any questions."

"Do you have a name yet?" Robbie asked.

"General...oh what the fuck is it, something unpronounceable...I can't remember it."

"Go and find out, please."

Jane heaved a sigh and glided out of her slouched position with the grace of a dancer. "Yes, sir." She left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Leesie turned slightly nervous eyes towards Robbie, but masked her discomfort by asking brightly, "So I suppose Wyl is with T now?"

"Once I persuaded him to get out of bed."

"Oh, lord." Leesie shook her head and grinned, relaxing a little. "He's always been terrible about that. Whenever he got a rest day back on Hazard, the only thing that could get him out of bed was food. After he ate, he went right back to sleep. He was working a lot more then, though, and I know he needed the rest." She arched one eyebrow. "What's his reason now?"

Robbie felt himself begin to blush and silently cursed. He'd always been a terrible liar, completely unable to conceal his emotions. Leesie just smiled. "Never mind, it isn't any of my business. I'm just glad he's happy. He really needed to find someone like you."

"Even though it almost got him killed?"

"Everything turned out all right," Leesie replied. "That's the most important thing." Wispy strands of pale blonde hair had drifted out of her bun and floated around her face. She looked as slender and fragile as Wyl, Robbie thought. In both cases that fragility was an illusion. She smiled again, and Robbie had to smile back.

Jane burst back through the door, waving a small piece of paper. "Caractacus! Miles Caractacus. Say that five times fast."

Robbie stopped moving, completely. He knew he was gaping, but he couldn't help it. "General Miles Caractacus?"

"Yeah." Jane looked at Robbie quizzically. "You know him?"

"Yes."

Jane and Leesie glanced at each other. "Where from?"

"He's my ex's father."

Jane eventually broke the ensuing silence. "So...is that a good or a bad thing?"

"I have no clue." Garrett had mentioned that his father still thought well of Robbie when they had last spoken, but that was six months ago now. A lot of perceptions could change in six months. And what was he doing out here anyway? General Caractacus was also a federation senator, and he wasn't in Robbie's direct chain of command anymore.

"We'll give you some time to think," Leesie said quietly, standing up. Jane looked like she wanted to stay, but Leesie's hand was gentle and insistent on her arm, and she allowed herself to be turned. They left, and Robbie dropped his face into his hands, massaging his temples and resisting the urge to groan. It figured. Even thinking about Garrett wasn't something he wanted to do anymore, and coming face to face with his father over his actions was even further down the list. 

Now that Robbie thought about it, this was probably a bad thing. Miles, as he'd grown accustomed to calling him after he and Garrett got together, had been the one to give him authorization to investigate Danica and started extradition proceedings for Wyl. And what had he done? Gone haring off like a vigilante after his lover without so much as a "with your permission". That couldn't reflect well on Miles' decision, no matter how well-founded Robbie's reasons had been. And to top it all off, there was his relationship with Garrett...or his lack thereof.

Miles had actually introduced them, back when he had been a colonel and Robbie was still entrenched in the marines. Robbie was doing classroom time during officer training, and his instructor, Colonel Caractacus, had invited the graduating class to dinner at his house. Garrett, who worked as a biophysicist for a terraforming company, was there as well. They met, sparks flew, and it didn't take long for them to become lovers. Hardly an hour, actually.

In the end, though, it hadn't worked out. Robbie was at the front fighting for months at a time, and Garrett, who was accustomed to a certain amount of worship, felt neglected. After Robbie's tour was over, Garrett had encouraged him to find work closer to home. He had signed on as a federation marshal instead. That strained things to the breaking point, and after a number of hurtful interactions, they had called things quits.




Bonded Ch. 03



And now Miles was here. For whatever reason, he was here, and he would decide Robbie's future. Robbie felt anxiety well in his chest, not only for himself, but for Wyl. Would any of the negative fallout affect him? Would they make him answer questions? Would they transfer his bond somewhere else?

"You're going to make yourself sick," Robbie said aloud. "Stop it." He needed to take his mind off himself. He pulled up the docking log for the day, noting who was arriving, when. Miles' ship should be in any moment. The station master himself was going down to meet him. Bloody fucking perfect. He could pull up the camera array, watch him come in, check to see if... "If what?" Robbie snarled at himself. "If it looks like he's in a good mood?" He erased the log from the desktop. The door opened slightly.

"Sir?" It was Jane's voice.

"What?" he snapped.

"You know that talking to yourself is a sign of dementia, right?"

"You were listening?"

"You were shouting."

"Oh."

She let herself in the door, shutting it behind her. "The last time you lost your temper was right before we went after Wyl. I think you need to do something to calm down before you see the general."

"What do you recommend?"

"There's always the mat room." She smiled and winked. "I won't hurt you too bad. You need to burn off some energy before you sabotage yourself."

Robbie sighed. He knew she was right. It was a rare day when he let his emotions get the better of him at work, and the best cure for it was activity. He still had close to two hours before the review was scheduled. "Fine."

"Good call." Jane offered him her hand. Strong ebony fingers pulled him firmly to his feet. "And you better not make it too easy on me this time."

Robbie shook his head and reluctantly smiled. "What's easy for you is punishing for me. I don't know who programmed your combat mods, but they did a damn fine job."

"I trained without them for years before the implants. I keep training now even though they've been removed. Use it or lose it," she shrugged. "Now c'mon."

One hour and forty five minutes later Robbie was clean, immaculately dressed and nursing a bruise the size of Jane's heel across his ribcage. He sat alone in a conference room, waiting for the general and the rest of the review board to join him, staring out at space. Jane had been right, as usual. The workout had been good for his mind, if not necessarily his body. He hardly had enough energy now to worry.

The door behind him opened. Robbie stood up from his chair, repressing a wince, and turned around. He saluted briskly. "Sir."

"Marshal Sinclair." The general returned the salute, then shut the door. "Go ahead and sit down, son." He moved around the table to sit across from Robbie, and Robbie took the chance to examine him. Miles looked a lot like his son, except his hair was silver instead of gold, and short where Garrett wore it long. They were both slender and strong, but Miles was a soldier, and the difference showed in his posture and brisk, crisp movements. There was nothing languid about him, whereas his son practically slid with every step. He set his briefcase on the chair next to him as he sat down, and Robbie refocused his attention.

"No need to wait, let's get down to business."

"What about the rest of the review board, sir?"

"What?" Miles snorted. "All bureaucratic bullshit. There's no need for a goddamn conduct review for me to see that your actions under the circumstances were appropriate. I explained matters to your superior officers and excused them from the board. I'm here to officially clear you, and for another reason." He paused and looked Robbie over appraisingly. "You seem to have taken to your new career very well, from the reports I read."

"Yes, sir." Somehow Robbie managed to get his mouth to respond even though his brain was still reeling from the sudden exoneration. "It's useful work."

"It is, and not a bad choice for an ex-marine. Frankly, though, it's a waste of your talents." Miles folded his hands. "You were an active duty marine for over twenty five years. You got through officer training with stellar results, you more than once survived fiascos that killed the majority of our men, and you're an effective leader under fire. You were let go because the federation felt the war was coming to an end and didn't want to keep paying for your expertise."

"The war is over," Robbie said.

"It's over for now," the general corrected him. "There's every likelihood that it will start up again in the next few years, though. We aren't bred for peace, and conflicts inevitably arise when one idiot gets within shooting distance of another." He shook his head. "And now our best officers are working enforcement, or as civilians, or in the private sector. We're going to need leadership soon."

"What are you getting at, sir?" It was probably impolite of him to start asking questions immediately, but Robbie had to know.

"I want you to come back to work for the military."

Bam. The punch line. It took his breath away faster than Jane kicking him. Fortunately, the general wasn't waiting for him to respond, because he would've embarrassed himself if he'd tried just then.

"Not as an active duty officer, not yet," Miles continued. "I don't have the authority to offer you your command back, since we are still technically in peacetime. I want to hire you as a consultant. I want you in the field, gathering intelligence and laying the foundation for a team. You did a stint for military intelligence, didn't you?"

"Five years."

"Three of them undercover, if I remember right. A lot of good came from that operation." The general nodded approvingly. "You have a lot of skills that we could use. I can pay you twice what you're making here, and double that for fieldwork. You'd have to come back to the central planets and do a lot of traveling, but you never minded that before. I brought a contract with me." He pulled a thin sheaf of papers out of his briefcase.

Something in Robbie's face must have slowed him down, because Miles just set the contract down on the table instead of pushing him to sign. "Take your time, son. Look everything over. I'll be here for another thirty hours or so. I'm meeting with a contact to discuss smuggling operations here on the fringe. Get in touch with me before I leave and let me know your decision." He paused. "It's a lot to take in."

"It is," Robbie agreed.

"I'm not sure this opportunity will come again anytime soon," Miles cautioned him. "I'm only allowed a limited number of operatives right now. Think about if it's something you really want."

"Um..." Robbie managed to piece a few connections in his brain together. "What about Wyl?"

"That's the bonder you rescued, right? What about him?"

"Could his bond be transferred again?"

"I doubt it," Miles replied. There was a look of sympathy in his eyes, but he didn't express it. "He's here until he pays off his bond. Once that's done, he can go where he likes, as long as he can pay the travel fees or find a company to hire him on and pay them for him." He paused for a moment. "Our kind of work is hard on relationships, Robbie. There's no denying that. But its good work, and it's needed." He pulled up the time on the table and sighed. "I've got meetings all bloody day. I have to get to the next one." He closed his briefcase, stood up and walked back around the table. "I'm sorry we couldn't take more time to talk, Marshal. It's good to see you again." He held his hand out and they shook briefly.

"And you, sir. How is Garrett doing?" The question was out of his mouth before he could censor it.

Miles smiled slightly. "He's fine. He's more dolled up than a showgirl and more demanding than his mother, but he's doing good work. It keeps him out of trouble."

"Ha."

"Right." He pointed at the contract. "Don't forget that." Then he walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Released from formality, Robbie slumped back down into his chair. That encounter had been the last thing he's expected, the last thing he'd prepared for. Military work again? He reluctantly picked up the contract and looked it over. The offer was very good, and Miles was right about him having the skills for it. He had loved the work when he'd had it. Being a marshal on a backwater station at the edge of the fringe didn't come close to comparing. If he'd been given the offer six months ago, he would have jumped on it immediately. But everything changed after he met Wyl.

Wyl. Fuck. If he accepted the offer, Wyl wouldn't be able to come with him. It was possible he could come back for stints, in between mission, the same way he had with Garrett. Speaking of Garrett, the timing of this whole thing was suspicious, as was the general himself coming out for it. Honestly...didn't he have better things to do with his time than clear Robbie and take meetings? He could have sent an aide. Hell, he could have used a holoscreen; there was no need for him to be here. He wanted to make an impression on Robbie.

Robbie checked the time. He had told Wyl he'd try to meet him for lunch at T's, but he wasn't going to make it. He needed to talk to Garrett.

***

"He must have been held up," Leesie said softly.

"What?"

"In the meeting," she clarified. "Otherwise he'd be here. He did tell you he'd meet you for lunch, right?"

"Yeah," Wyl muttered distractedly, pulling on a flyaway lock of hair. By now he should have been starving. At first he had waited to eat until Robbie joined them, but as time passed anxiety wore away his appetite. What was taking so long?

"Its fine," Jane said around a mouthful of biscuit. She swallowed quickly. "Running late doesn't mean things aren't going well. They knew each other from before, after all, maybe they're just catching up."

"Knew who?" Wyl asked. 

"The guy that's overseeing his conduct review," Jane replied. "It's General...fuck, I just can't pronounce that fucking name, but it's his ex's father."

"Whoa." Wyl was taken aback. "I didn't know the guy was a general."

"Robbie's never talked about him to you?" Jane asked. "Weird."

"It's hardly the sort of thing he'd want to discuss at this point," Leesie pointed out placatingly. "He and Garrett stopped seeing each other. There's no reason to bring him or his father up."

Jane grinned. "I know, but I'm a digger. I always want to know everything about the person I'm sleeping with, including their best previous fuck, so I can outdo it. How was Garrett in bed?"

"Jane." Leesie shook her head disparagingly. "You delight in being naughty."

"I'm a foil to your nice," Jane replied. "And this chowder is fucking amazing, by the way, your husband is a genius." She glanced around. "Where is he, anyway?"

"Still in the kitchen, I imagine, overseeing preparations." Leesie glanced at Wyl. "Did the sous chef arrive?"

"Yeah, about an hour ago." Wyl wasn't really concentrating on what was being said. He felt...strange. It was stupid, there was no reason for him to feel strange, but the circumstances of Robbie's review were making him worry.

"So you're off, then," Leesie encouraged. "Why not go and wait for Robbie back at your apartment? It's probably the first place he'll go once he finally gets out, since he's pretty much missed lunch. Come back for the opening, though, we'll hold a table for you two for dinner. Besides, you and T would only irritate each other right now if you stuck around, given how preoccupied you both are." She rolled her eyes a little. "Taylor is an absolute bear when he gets nervous. He wants this restaurant to work out so badly."

"There's no chance it won't," Jane reassured her as she reached for another biscuit. "There's only one other decent place to eat in this entire station, and they don't do spicy. Everything else is room order, and we've all eaten that stuff a million times, they never change the damn menu. It'll be a hit."

Wyl left the two women talking about the opening that evening. He and Robbie were supposed to attend, but it might be better to spend some time alone. He wished he knew what was going on, but he knew better than to call Robbie right now. Technically his lover was on duty and he wasn't supposed to get personal calls.

Wyl walked slowly down the hall towards their apartment, thinking about Robbie, worrying about how he was, contemplating what he could do to make him comfortable once he got home. He stopped a few feet away from the door, frowning. Voices? Robbie was already home? Why hadn't he come to meet him?

Curiosity got the better of common sense. He didn't want to intrude if it was the general, but...Wyl crouched down outside the door, very happy that most of the people who lived in this section of the station were working and wouldn't see him acting like a nut job. Wyl's hearing, so much better than a normal person's, stripped away the soundproofing and relayed the conversation inside with perfect clarity. 

"-not such a big deal," a languid, relaxed voice was saying. Where had he heard that voice before?

"It matters because he put me on the spot," Robbie replied, sounding annoyed.

"You like being on the spot," the voice teased. "You thrive under pressure, admit it. That's why he wants you for the job, you'd be perfect at it."

"Gare-," Robbie sighed, and Wyl missed the second part of his sentence as a sudden memory swept over him. Six months ago, while he'd been lying in bed and Robbie had been in the living room, Robbie had called Garrett. Garrett was his ex. That was why the voice was faintly familiar to him. Why the fuck was Robbie talking to him?

"Yes, I reminded him about you," Garrett was saying. "There's no harm in doing you a favor, is there? Don't go all strange and petulant on me just for trying to help you. He did need to be out there anyway, and it could only help his cause to meet with you in person. My father is used to getting what he wants."

Robbie snorted softly with laughter. "You both are. I appreciate the thought. It's just...damn awkward timing, that's all."

"Why? I'd have thought you'd be glad to see this phase of your life pass, especially when you could get back into military operations."

"It isn't that easy. Wyl's going to be here for the next six months at least."

"And you don't want little Wyl to be all on his lonesome?" There was heavy sarcasm in Garrett's voice. "He's not a child, Robbie. If he really loves you, if he really wants what's best for you, then he won't begrudge you the chance of a lifetime to get your real career back on track. You're not meant to be a marshal, no matter how well you do the grunt work. You're meant to command. I realized it when we were together, and I never tried to stop you from doing what you love. So it didn't work out between us in the end," Wyl could almost hear his shrug, "from all you've said, your new man is quite a bit less spoiled than I am. He doesn't need you to hover over him like an anxious mother hen, he can take care of himself for six months. Then bring him to live with you. Simple solution." 

There was a long, painful silence. Wyl suddenly pulled back from the door, jerking to his feet like he'd been burned. He became aware that he was panting, flushed and grinding his teeth painfully, leaving his whole jaw clenched. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

He couldn't just keep standing there in the hall like an idiot. The last thing he wanted was for someone to see him right now, especially Robbie. He needed to be alone someplace, somewhere he could calm down and think. His feet moving before his mind caught up, he began heading towards the shop.

There were always things to work on in the shop, and it was so large that despite employing fifteen different mechanics, you could usually find something to do by yourself. Wyl was currently the engine specialist, and he was given his own, smaller shop to work on things in, from entire engines to casings to custom modifications. He walked inside, shut the door behind him, and closed his eyes. 

Wyl tried to calm himself down, but relentless energy coursed painfully through his body. Specks of light flashed in front of him, and his breathing was loud and hoarse. Needing some sort of release, Wyl grabbed the closest tool in one hand and hammered it savagely against the wall behind him, beating it until he felt the polymer give beneath the onslaught. He kept going, though, smashing on the wall until he broke through the plastic completely and exposed the metal hull beneath it. The impact of the tool on the solid hull numbed his entire arm, and he dropped the wrench he'd grabbed as a spasm of pain shot up to his shoulder. He dropped to the floor right there, propped up against the door, waiting for a little clarity. The pain helped.

It was hard to know what to think, how to organize his thoughts...start easy, start small. The good news was that Robbie wasn't going to be court-martialed or brigged or whatever the hell those guys called it. The good news was people in his chain of command still thought highly of him. The good news was that he was being offered a job which he really wanted and which people really wanted him to take.

The bad news? The mere thought of Robbie leaving him, even for a day, was horrible. It was illogical, it was pathetic, it was selfish but it was true. Maybe he had PTSD or weird codependence issues, but the thought of Robbie jaunting off to another planet and leaving Wyl behind made him physically ill. Why?

Because you're a selfish whining pussy, Wyl's internal voice shouted at him. What the fuck is wrong with you? Six months? What is that? Nothing! People spend longer in cryo, moving from system to system. Six months is a pittance, a tiny fraction of your life. Buck the fuck up. Your worry doesn't matter; your insecurity is just that: yours. Don't screw things up with him by keeping him from what he loves. He won't thank you for it.

Some tiny logical section of Wyl's brain suggested that he talk things over with Robbie before he came to any conclusions, but it was drowned out by the clamor of all the rest of him. He scrubbed one hand over his face, unsurprised by the tears he felt on it. He was a bloody mess. There was no way he could face anyone right now, he'd just break down and embarrass himself more. Fumbling at his collar, Wyl activated his comm. "Leesie Paulsen." The system connected him to her device in moments.

"This is Marshal Paulsen."

"Leesie, its Wyl."

"Wyl! Have you found Robbie? How is he?"

"No, I haven't...listen, something big just came into the shop, and they really need me for it. It's kind of an emergency. I won't be able to make the opening. If you see Robbie, tell him not to bother about me, just to have a good time."

"You sound a little strange." He could almost hear her frown. "Is something wrong? Do you want me to come-"

"No," Wyl interjected quickly. "Its fine, I'm just going to be really busy for awhile. Talk to Robbie for me, 'kay?"

"Okay..."

"Thanks." He turned off the comm and slumped down for a long moment, head against his knees. He needed the time alone to regain his composure. Work would help. Wyl loved working with machines, they were so uncomplicated when compared to people. Find a problem, fix it. Something's wearing out, replace it. Too far gone to save? Get a new one. Fuck, if he was a machine, he'd probably put himself in the last category. Wyl didn't know how Leesie and Robbie handled dealing with people all day, usually people who were afraid of them. 

Wyl was socially stunted. He'd been strange even as a kid, and his parents' suicides and his subsequent destructive bender didn't help matters any. As a bonder, he hadn't been given a psych eval in years. He wondered what would turn up if he were to get one now. Designation: total fucking wimp. Treatment plan: spine implant.




Bonded Ch. 03



Wyl sighed and stood up. He moved over to his latest project and picked up where he'd left off on it, moving mechanically, trying not to think too hard. It was a special project, a custom engine casing for a wealthy resident. He wanted a phoenix etched into the metal. Wyl had never considered himself an artist, but he could make metal tap dance on command if he wanted it to, and it wasn't difficult to figure out how to get the guy's design to look right. He worked on the engine casing for hours, losing track of the time until his comm buzzed.

Wyl looked down at the designation. It was Robbie. The man he didn't want to talk to right now, except that he did. He might have answered if he'd had any idea of what to say. So he ignored it. Five minutes later, the comm buzzed again. Wyl drowned the sound out with his molecular spanner. 

Robbie tried once more, a few hours later. Wyl checked the time. It was nearly eight, well into T's opening. Robbie was probably there. Wyl hoped he'd stay there, and not come looking for him.

He got his wish. Robbie didn't come looking for him. Wyl stayed and worked until nearly midnight, such as it was on a space station. Finally he was drained beyond the point of being able to hold his head up. Vaguely he seemed to recall that he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, but it failed to register. He put his tools away, shucked off his heavy welding gear and stumbled out of the shop. The station was low-lit during the designated nighttime hours, and it took Wyl longer than it should have to get back to their apartment. Fatigue blurred his vision and slowed his steps down. 

Eventually he made it home. The door opened at his touch and he slid inside, mechanically kicking his shoes off. The apartment was dark except for the slightest touch of luminescence in the walls, just enough to light the way to the bedroom. Wyl crept in quietly, not wanting to wake Robbie, but after a moment he realized he probably wouldn't wake his lover up if he were stomping as hard as he could. He could smell the citrus and cloves from T's café brûlot recipe, and seeing as Robbie hardly ever drank, the alcohol had hit him hard.

Wyl dropped his clothes by the bed and lay down, turning to look at Robbie. He was sleeping on his stomach, one arm stretched out above his head, the other curled beneath his pillow. Robbie was an active sleeper, and he'd already kicked the blanket mostly off the bed. He was naked, and in the dim light Wyl could just make out the curves of his shoulders, the strong sweeping lines of his back and the enticing roundness of his ass. Unable to stop himself, Wyl reached out and stroked his shoulder lightly.

Man, Robbie really was out. He tended to sleep lightly and wake quickly, and he was doing neither of those things. It made Wyl more comfortable, in a way. He didn't want to talk, but he didn't want to sleep, either. His fatigue was rapidly being replaced with desire. Robbie was so beautiful. It was unfair for him to be so beautiful and so good at the same time. It made resisting him impossible. He moved his hand lower, feathering his fingers down Robbie's spine. 

Robbie answered Wyl's subconscious prayers by mumbling something and rolling over onto his back. Wyl shifted down the bed to rest by his hip and reached out again, this time for what he really wanted to touch. Robbie's cock was flaccid, relaxed after a day of stress followed by alcohol. Wyl stroked it gently, rubbing along the inside of his lover's thighs and brushing his sack. He took his time, tracing the veins and around the head, applying just enough pressure to elicit a response. Robbie's legs spread further apart, and Wyl repositioned himself again so that he was leaning over his lover's body. He huffed warm air down onto Robbie's cock, watching it expand and grow eager. 

Wyl had never been good at resisting temptation, and he wasn't going to start now. He lowered his mouth, kissed Robbie's abdomen, then the closest point of his hip. He kissed his thigh, all the way down to his knee and then back up. He kissed all around Robbie's cock, nuzzling the pale brown hair it nestled in, before finally, slowly, sucking it into his mouth. Wyl closed his eyes and held it there, running his tongue over the familiar curves, savoring its slow expansion inside of him until it was pressing against his throat, and he had to back off a little. Sweet precum began to flow, and he swirled his tongue around the head, gathering it up.

Robbie's breathing had deepened, and suddenly he groaned. "Wyl..."

Wyl didn't want to stop and talk. He lifted his head just long enough to whisper, "It's all right, relax," before going down again. He started to work, gripping the base of Robbie's cock with one hand to hold it steady and lowering his lips as far down as he could go. Wyl's tongue traveled up and down the length of the cock, and he pressed hard with his lips, desperate for a taste of his lover and anxious to get him off so that he would fall asleep again, and not make Wyl speak. Robbie's hips began to lift, thrusting his cock further into Wyl's mouth, and his roaming hands reached down and caressed Wyl's head, fingers threading into hair in a sign of affection and tenderness.

Wyl let Robbie fuck his face, pumping the base of his cock as his head bobbed over the rest of it, sucking, squeezing, manipulating all of it he could until he felt his lover reach the point of no return. His cock swelled, and Robbie arched his back and cried out Wyl's name as he began to come, shooting pulse after pulse of cream down Wyl's throat. Wyl swallowed everything, rolling the last few jets against his tongue as he removed his mouth from Robbie's cock, savoring the flavor. Robbie's hands relaxed their grip on his head and moved to his shoulders, drawing him up the bed until he was laying across Robbie, their faces close.

"Wyl." Robbie sounded so sleepy, and reminded Wyl that he was tired as well. "Where've you been, baby?"

"Worked late," Wyl replied, swallowing fast against an uncomfortable huskiness that grew in his throat as desire was supplanted by dread. "Go back to sleep." He leaned in and kissed Robbie gently on the lips, sharing his taste, soothing him back to sleep with soft caresses. Once Robbie's eyes closed and his breathing steadied, Wyl sighed with relief. He still didn't know what to say. He needed to get up early tomorrow, take time to think, decide how to phrase the things he wanted to say...first he needed to decide what to say. Shit. He laid his head down on the pillow, suddenly exhausted, too warm and comforted by Robbie's nearness to keep his eyes open. He'd figure it out in the morning. He'd figure it all out so Robbie would be happy, and he would try to keep his dignity. In the morning...

***

Earlier in the day, Robbie hadn't been so satisfied. His conversation with Garrett was interesting, and almost everything the man had said was practical, but a time had come in his life where practicality had ceased to rule Robbie's world. It had crept up on him so gradually he hadn't even noticed when, all of a sudden, the thought of being separated from his lover for any amount of time longer than a day seemed irrationally painful. 

It was irrational. He had occasionally longed for Garrett while he was in the field, a desire for his easy company and the amazing sex that came with him superseding his work. But that was momentary, gone in the next rush of duty and responsibility. It was different with Wyl, though. Something about him had changed. He had been changed. 

Robbie wasn't entirely sure that was a good thing. He had cultivated a certain demeanor in his professional self, and Wyl shook that to the core, provoking him into actions he would never have considered taking before. The whole mess that had landed him in the hot seat now was a perfect example, but there were other, more subtle ones that had resulted from six months of living with Wyl. Robbie had never taken a day off before. When he was told to go on leave, he went, otherwise he kept working. Once Wyl had come into his life, he suddenly found himself using up all the leave he had accumulated and then some, just so they could spend the day together. 

He wasn't sure what he wanted. He knew it would be a great move for his career to take Miles' offer, and there was no denying that he would probably love the work. It was only six months. Wyl probably would be fine. Hell, he might even enjoy having some space to himself for awhile. They had moved in together as soon as Wyl got out of the infirmary.

Robbie decided to table the decision for now. He had some time to figure things out, and he was surprisingly tired. Not so surprising really, he hadn't slept much last night. Wyl was undoubtedly still working with T, and he had already missed lunch. He would head over for the opening. Until then, it was food and rest that he needed most.

Robbie slept for a couple of hours, killed some time working out in the living room and showered off, letting activity soothe his indecision. He needed to work it out with other people. He needed to talk to Jane. She was off duty now and would give him some perspective on the whole thing.

She was in the gym. "Come and tell me all about it."

"I am not going to be your punching doll again."

"I'm working off my lunch, not sparring. God damn, T is an amazing cook. You missed a great meal."

"I'll be there for dinner, so I didn't miss much. Since when have you been such a connoisseur?" 

"I've been cultivating my palate ever since I got out of the service. Being a marine was fun, but let's face it, the food was fucking lousy."

"It built character."

"It built something, but I don't know that I'd call it character. Guts of steel, maybe. Now get your fine ass in here, sir, and tell me about the meeting." 

Robbie took a moment to dress for dinner, then left to find Jane. She was playing tennis against a virtual opponent, and the match seemed fierce, but she was barely breathing hard. "You look cute! Now spill. I assume you aren't going to be reprimanded."

He told her about General Caractacus' offer. She put the game on pause and turned to look at him incredulously. "Are you serious? Holy fuck, I'd give my right tit to get back into the service that way."

"Even with the lousy food?"

"I'd have Leesie send me care packages. Wow. What did you tell him?"

"Basic noncommittals. He told me to think it over and that he'd need an answer before he leaves the station. I have about twenty-four hours left to think."

"What's there to think about?" Jane asked, then blinked and smacked her head with one hand. "Stupid. Sorry. Wyl, of course."

"Yeah. His contract runs out in six months, and I could probably swing moving him to whatever home base I would get into, but..."

"Ooh, that does suck. I would die without sex for six months."

"It's not the sex."

"Not entirely the sex," Jane corrected him. "Most relationships need a certain level of physical intimacy to stay healthy, and Wyl is one of the biggest hedonists I've ever met. I mean that in a good way," she added with a grin. "There's nothing wrong with being a sensualist. But you love each other, and that makes separation more difficult. And lets be honest, with a project like this, you probably wouldn't get to come back very often to visit him even if he was at your home base, not if things are still in their infancy. There's a lot of work to be done, I'd guess." She sighed wistfully. "It's an organizational wet dream. I fucking love logistics."

"What do I do?"

"What do you want to do?" she countered. "If you want the job badly enough, you should take it. If you don't want it that badly, don't take it. If you're somewhere in the middle, work out the pros and cons of each situation and talk it over with Wyl. Communication, boss man. Communication is key. In fact, you must have talked already, right? What did he say?"

Robbie started. "He's still working with T."

"No he isn't. He finished up by lunchtime, Leesie sent him home to meet you."

"He didn't come in while I was there, and I finished with the general just before we were supposed to meet for lunch."

"You must have just missed each other," Jane said with a shrug. "He'll be there for dinner, you can hook up then. Sure you don't want to play a set?"

"And muss my pretty self?" Robbie grinned.

"We can't have that, can we? Give me a couple minutes to change and we can head to T's together. They're saving us a table. Have you ever had café brûlot before?"

"I have no idea what that is."

"Oh, you're going to enjoy it. It's quite the show. Be right out."

They walked together to the restaurant. The hallway was crowded with people, chatting groups waiting to get inside. Fortunately for them, Leesie spotted them and came to rescue them from the line. Robbie hardly recognized her out of her uniform. She wore a small, strapless baby blue dress and heels. Her hair was loose and curling around her face, and she was wearing makeup. "Hi!" she said with a bright smile as she got close to them. "Nice crowd, isn't it?"

"What did I tell you?" Jane replied smugly. "Did you save us seats?"

"Yes, Alex can show you." She motioned to one of the hosts hovering at the door like brightly-dressed moths. A smiling young man stepped forward. "Jane, we'll be right in." She turned back to Robbie. "I got a call from Wyl a couple hours ago. He got some emergency project dumped on him in the shop, and he isn't sure when he's going to be done with it. He said you shouldn't worry about it."

"Is he going to make it here at all?" 

"He didn't think so." Leesie looked like she wanted to say something else, but then her expression cleared. "I'm sure if he can get here he will. Come on inside, the first course is ready to go."

Robbie followed her through the press of people into the restaurant. The lighting was low, promoting intimacy. He wished he had someone here to be intimate with. The table was next to the wall, with only three seats. He sat down next to Leesie and Jane. "T can't join us?"

"Please," Leesie chided, shaking her head. "He won't be sitting down for the next twenty-four hours. He's a workaholic, almost as bad as you." She smiled playfully at Robbie.

"I guess I'm not as bad as Wyl," Robbie said wryly. "I'm going to call him."

Jane laughed. "Good luck getting him to hear anything in this crowd."

Robbie activated his comm. "Wyl Leyton." The comm buzzed. It kept buzzing. Robbie deactivated the call after thirty seconds. "He must be really busy."

"He did say it was an emergency."

The first course came, carried by a friendly, harried waiter. Jane bought Robbie a drink he didn't need, but he sipped at it anyway. "What is this?"

"Jazmian Tears."

"It tastes a little like scotch."

"What's scotch?"

"An old, old drink. You can get it still, on some planets."

"Your parents are Earthlings, right?" Jane grinned. "Do they drink scotch?"

"They used to."

"Did they see the light and move beyond mere Earth drinks?"

"They never got around to it. Cryo casualties. Their unit lost power in the transfer. My grandparents still live on Mars, they love scotch."

"Wow." Jane blinked. "That really, really sucks. I think you might have officially killed the mood. Thanks, boss man."

"It was a long time ago." Robbie sipped the drink again. "This is actually pretty good." The next course came, and they were spared from too much discomfort by preoccupation with eating. Robbie tried Wyl again, but again no answer.

Jane and Leesie chatted, waiters came and went, the restaurant was packed to the brim, but it seemed like Robbie could barely hear any of it. He ate, responded when he was asked something and complimented T on the food when he managed to escape from the kitchen for a moment. His mind was elsewhere, though. He thought about the job offer, he thought about his work, he even thought about his parents, which he hadn't really done for years. Mostly he thought about Wyl. 

He tried one more time to reach him, letting the comm buzz and buzz. Why wasn't he picking up? Jane tapped his shoulder. "You're going to miss the show!"

Robbie turned in his chair and watched a waiter holding a silver ladle in one hand and a spiral-sliced orange peel in the other dip the ladle into a circle of flame wreathing a large silver bowl. The mixture in the ladle caught on fire and the waiter poured it into the bowl, setting its contents ablaze as well. Quickly he spooned the flaming liquid up and poured it down the orange peel. The strong, sweet scents of citrus, coffee and brandy filled the room.

"Now that is an old Earth drink," Jane said appreciatively. "Café brûlot. I've only had it once before."

"It's T's specialty," Leesie said, her eyes never leaving the flames. "He made it for me on our second date. He burned off all the hair on one arm doing it." She smiled at the reminiscence. "He's gotten a lot better since then. He spent days training the staff on how to do it." 

Cups were being filled and brought to tables. Robbie tried to refuse, but Leesie insisted this time. "You've never had anything like it before," she promised. Robbie caved and took a drink. The liquid was thick and very sweet, the coffee flavor offset by cloves and lemon and still-strong brandy. He swallowed. "Isn't the fire supposed to burn away the alcohol?"

"It would if it was traditional brandy." Leesie blushed a little. "T decided to go with something a little more potent for the opening. It's less strong now than if he hadn't lit it on fire at all, but there's still some alcohol in it."

"Absolutely delicious," Jane purred. "I could die happy now."

They sat and sipped and mingled. Jane was popular despite her status as a marshal and everyone wanted to congratulate Leesie on the obvious success of the opening. Robbie sat and drank a while longer before eventually realizing that he was drinking too much. His head felt fuzzy, and he couldn't concentrate. 

"I have to get going," he said to Jane in a rare quiet moment.

"Why, your man call you?"

"No." No. His comm. had remained silent, and Robbie wasn't going to try calling again tonight. "I just need to get out of this crowd, and I want to be home when Wyl gets there."

"Have a good evening." Impulsively Jane took one of his hands. "Talk to Wyl. Get everything you want to say out in the open and let him help you decide. You'll feel better."

"I will." Years of training helped Robbie keep his balance as he maneuvered through the crowd, and an ingrained respect of other's privacy kept him from going and bugging Wyl in the shop. He got home, got cleaned up and then, with a weariness that surprised him, got into bed. He picked up an antique paperback romance and started reading, but he couldn't stay focused. The drinks muddled his thoughts and he was anxious and tired. He put the book down and lowered the lights, then stared at the blank ceiling for awhile. Finally he slept.

Gentle touches drew him out of sleep, rousing his heart first, and then the rest of him. Wyl was with him in bed, holding him in his mouth, working his length with his exquisite tongue. "Wyl..."

"It's all right, relax." His lover was unyielding, using every skill he had to drive Robbie towards a fast orgasm. It didn't take long for him to cascade into overdrive, clutching at Wyl as he came. The pleasure swayed his mind, momentarily driving away all anxiety and sleepiness and bathing him in sweet amnesia, leaving nothing but enjoyable aftershocks and the abiding peace that came from getting Wyl's undivided attention. 

Body and memory slowly intruded, though, and he pulled Wyl up and onto him as he tried to pull a coherent sentence together. "Wyl. Where've you been, baby?"

"Worked late. Go back to sleep." They kissed, and Wyl was so sweet and pliable and delicious. Robbie held him as he fell asleep, finally relaxed.