Anything
By Jennifer Lyon
Rating: NC-17, Cade/Eddie
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Anything
by Jennifer Lyon
I woke in the grip of terror. Visions of horror haunted my eyes behind still-shuttered lids. My tongue flickered over dry lips as I gasped for breath, my pulse pounding in my chest. A voice shrieked - and for a moment, I thought I was still asleep, still trapped in the nightmare. Then that voice called out again, and I recognized it, awareness of my surroundings following in a rush.
"Cade?" I called out, opening my eyes and peering into the dim environs of the trailer.
"Eddie!" he yelled. I was up off the couch and over to the bed in a clumsy flurry of motion. Somehow, I managed to switch on a light as I stumbled down onto the side of the bed. The sudden glare gleamed on his golden hair as he twisted in his sleep, moaning now.
"Easy," I told him, gripping his shoulders. He jerked upwards, seizing hold of my arms painfully.
"Hey Foster, it's me. You're dreaming!" I shouted, trying to bring him back to reality.
His eyes opened and fixated on me, his powerful hands not lessening their grip.
"Eddie," he whispered hoarsely. I nodded firmly.
"Yeah, I'm right here buddy. You OK?"
He didn't answer, simply stared at me with wide, exhausted eyes. His hands, finally, loosened slightly, just enough to begin an exploration of the length of my arms and bony shoulders.
I closed one of my hands on his forearm to slow him down. He didn't pause, just kept devouring me with his eyes and hands.
"What's the matter..." I started to ask, but he never let me finish. The next thing I knew, I was caught up in a fierce embrace. He wrapped himself around me, buried his face in the curve of my neck and clung to me like a large, very warm boa constrictor.
"Uhhh," I muttered, abruptly lost for words. He was trembling as he held me. "It's OK. Really. Everything's all right." Liar, I scolded myself, even as I offered the words of reassurance. Nothing was all right in our world, not with the Gua out there. Not with our own people hunting him down for a crime he hadn't committed. We were fighting a desperate war for survival and neither of us, truly, held much hope of winning. But it was all I could do -- offer false words of comfort and return his embrace.
I ran my hands up and down the length of his spine, murmuring soft words. It didn't seem to make much impact; he still shook in my arms, his own locked around me. We sat like that for a long time before he seemed to calm down and release the fierceness of his grip.
I pulled back enough to be able to look into his eyes, seeking some reassurance myself. I needed to be sure he was all right, as much - maybe more - than he needed to know the same about me. He was the savior after all. Without him, we could write off the entire human race.
His expression was taut as we looked at each other. I doubt that I was much less grim. But he surprised me again, and the shift in intent was so fleeting as to pass me completely by.
All I knew was that he was suddenly kissing me, his hands framing my face, pinioning me under the force of his passion. I gasped, and his tongue was in my mouth, hot and slick. Too shocked to judge my response, I pushed at his chest, pulled away.
He was up and away and across the length of the trailer before I even had a chance to breath.
"I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm so sorry," he stammered. He moved towards the door just as clarity struck me, not a heartbeat too soon.
"Wait!" I yelled.
He froze in place, but refused to turn and look at me.
His shoulders heaved as he breathed roughly.
I stood up and stepped closer to him. Silently, I was berating myself for not seeing this. I had been too caught up in my own tumultuous reactions to the events of the past few months to pay enough attention to his. So much had happened. We'd both nearly died, more than once. I'd been tortured for protecting him; he'd been shot and betrayed by a human woman. The aliens had attacked me, nearly killing my few remaining friends to get to me, while he'd been unable to help. And more...
I *knew* how I felt about him. Always had, nearly from the first day he burst into my life. It was sheer impossibility for me not to love him, not only because he was the 'Twice-Blessed Man' - the hero who would save this planet from an alien invasion, but also because of the kind of man he was and is. Those two go together, of course, for only a man of his determination and strength and courage and humanity could be the savior. Still - it was a heady combination, especially when mixed with the unbelievable trust he'd placed in me.
I knew myself. 'Crazy' or paranoid or antisocial or simply a geek - whatever words were used, I knew I had little going for me. Just an excess of brains when it came to computers and math and electronics, and I'd never managed to do anything worthwhile with that gift. Until now - until him.
And I'd do anything for him in return. Even more than when that bastard bounty-hunter had dunked my head in a barrel of water, now I absolutely understood just how serious and truly comprehensive I was about that 'anything.'
Anything at all.
"Cade, look at me," I called out. The certainty in my own voice was both chilling and exhilarating at once.
It did its job; he turned to look at me.
"Come here," I insisted, holding out my hand.
He shook his head. "Eddie, no, I can't..." But his expression, the mixture of pain and hunger, betrayed him.
"You need to," I told him with simple surety. "So come here."
He was drawn closer, but only a few steps. He stopped, ran a hand through his short hair, uncharacteristically hesitant.
"This isn't...I can't ask you to..." he said, his voice trailing off, unable even to put it into words.
"You're not asking, I'm offering," I told him, hoping it would ease his fear.
His glance was sharp. He didn't buy it for an instant. I laughed warmly, but with an edge that I could not hide.
"Don't you understand, man?" I demanded. "If this is what you need, then it's exactly what you get. No questions asked."
He reared back, his eyes widening.
"Eddie!" he exclaimed, "you don't, you *can't*, mean that!"
I shook my head in frustration.
"Damn it! Of course I mean it. How can you doubt me!"
He was still giving me the dead fish look, so I tried again.
"Look, I'd die for you in a heartbeat. This would be a hell of a lot more fun!"
That did it. He burst out into laughter. It was almost painfully raw, but it was still music to my ears. I grinned at him, moving closer so that I could touch his arm.
"Come to bed, Foster. If nothing else, maybe we can get some sleep."
His caustic mirth died abruptly. He focused on me, his eyes searching my face. I didn't try to smile again, only returned his gaze with my own certainty. That, it appeared, was what he needed. His hand lifted up to cup my cheek. I held my ground, waiting.
Then his mouth was on mine again. We kissed long and deep. It was sweeter this time, though no less fierce. Blood pounded in my temples, then fled southward, leaving me swaying against him. He gathered me up, guided us towards the bed. It wasn't far to go and I slumped back onto the crumpled sheets and mattress with joyous relief. He fell down over me.
T-shirts and boxers were easy to remove, stripping away any last barriers between us. I wanted to worship him, to caress every inch of his lean, muscular body, but he was too determined to have his own way with mine. I felt, momentarily, embarrassed, under the heat of his gaze and the possessive stroke of his hands, for I'm hardly anyone's vision of beauty or sex appeal. But his passion was a wave that washed over me, tossing me free of any fears or hesitations.
And it was easy to give myself over to him. I melted, pliant, willing, into his caresses. Met his kisses with a hunger of my own. Cradled him between my legs. Explored the curves and planes of his body with hands that couldn't get enough of the feel of his flesh. Gave way as he turned me over, slid over me, prepared me and took me.
Fire seared my nerves, the inevitable agony giving way to ecstasy as he filled me. Even that somehow wasn't quite enough; I kept reaching, rocking back against his thrusts, seeking to bring him closer, deeper, down into me, until we were longer two men but one.
He bit into my neck, his voice moaning my name, his body pressing harder into mine.
"Yes," I sobbed out, urging him onward. He shouted again - and flooded me with liquid heat. The convulsions of his body, his callused fingertips squeezing my cock, and I was tumbling with him, pulsing out over his hand in final, absolute offering.
We collapsed together, still clinging tightly. I didn't want him to release me; groaned as he pulled free, only to curl around me. He gathered me up against his chest and lay still. I slid my arms around him and rested in his embrace. The crickets sang to us as we sought sleep together.
Maybe there'd be a price to pay for tonight, but I was unable to stir much concern or fear. I gave him this willingly - and not a little bit selfishly. It was nothing compared to the daily risks and sacrifices that filled out lives during the war against the Gua. Nothing -- and yet everything. In the end, if anything was going to save us - it would be this very human capacity to give anything in the name of love.
End
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