Don't Slow Down--Jai/George Part 6

So, continuing on from where we last left off... warning, this is a little more explicit than my other sex scenes.

Uh, enjoy?

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"Slower?" George panted, struggling minimally with Jai's binding grip on his wrists. "But I want faster?"

Jai chuckled and shifted between George's legs. George's breath caught. Naked. They were naked. He was in a tent with an enormously strong man and their bodies were touching, skin rubbing, his cock along Jai's abdomen, Jai's cock along his thighs, and they were bare-assed naked. 

Jai dropped his head so his breath touched the shell of George's ear. Slowly--excruciatingly slowly--Jai rippled his hips, so George could feel every inch of of Jai's length shoving into the soft skin of his inner thigh.

There were a lot of inches-many of them long but some of them wide, and a thick slide of pre-come making those inches glide.

George moaned quietly and wrapped his legs around Jai's hips, arching against him and losing himself in the dreamy intimacy of being naked in the dark.

"Slow," Jai whispered, and rocked his hips again.

George's brain fizzled, and his words and any willpower he had to resist Jai's words and the demands of his body. "Anything," he whispered, arching up against Jai again. "Anything you want from me. Anything."

Jai sucked George's tender earlobe into his mouth, and kept up that full body massage with his own, their hips bucking against each other with increasing urgency. Jai released his earlobe, and the cool air added it's own gentle touch while Jai moved to behind his ear, his neck, his jaw. George tilted his head, bared his throat, gave this giant of a man complete access to all of his vulnerable parts.

Jai had already cared for George with tenderness and humor, and George had no qualms about turning over the reins.

Little broken whimpers issued from George's throat, and Jai kept on kissing him, his neck, his chest. Those big hands cupped George's hips and Jai took a sensitized nipple into his mouth, sucking until George moaned again, then nibbling, and then nipping. George clicked his teeth together in an effort to keep quiet and he moved his hands to grip Jai's biceps hard.

"Nyet," Jai whispered softly, putting George's hands over his head again.

"But--"

"You are my dessert," Jai said, his lips twisting wickedly. "Let me enjoy you."

"But--"

Jai reached under George's pillow and came out with a rope with a knot on either side, the kind that could be used as a dog toy. "Hold this," he instructed. "Over your head. Don't move until I tell you to."

George took the rope, surprised. "Nothing to tie me up with?" he said, only half joking.

"If this goes well this weekend, sure," Jai told him, so matter of factly that George's knees fell open.

"Nungh!"

"You like that, small man?"

This close, Jai's chest pressed up against George's abdomen, George could practically feel the smugness radiating from him. Being tied up had never been on George's list of kinks--but in this moment here, he felt the thrill at being at Jai's mercy.

"I dunno," he mumbled, squirming against Jai's massive body. "I just... just... oh God, Jai, I need--"

Jai took his other nipple into his wet mouth and pulled.

George cried out and bucked, wrapping his legs again and squeezing.

Jai let go of his nipple with a pop, and very carefully moved George's feet so one was spread on either side of Jai's body. "Stay," he said firmly.

George whimpered.

"Stay," Jai repeated. He moved then, kissing George's soft, concave tummy, nibbling at his hipbones, and then moving to his inner thighs.

"Did you miss something?" George squeaked, his entire groin area throbbing with the need for attention.

"A gag?" Jai said, so casually George moaned. He could see it, them, him gagged, his hands tied above his head, a blindfold, just giving himself over to Jai, allowing himself to be cared for. The fantasy--as well as the reality that was unfolding right at this moment, was enough to make George gasp, holding onto himself just barely as he spurted precise.

"Next time," Jai said judiciously, licking George's inner thighs right next to his balls. "Next time I shall bind you and gag you and blindfold you, and you will be at my mercy. But first, let me find out what I can do to make that good for you."

"Suck my cock?" George begged.

Jai chuckled, his hot breath fanning George's testicles. "Nyet."

He kissed the crease of George's thigh then, his goatee abrading the places George needed him to touch. He licked along George's balls, digging into the base of them, not quite in George's cleft. George's moans grew louder, although he fought against them, and Jai grunted, then reached up, his body covering George's in a whole new array of sensations, as he grabbed something else from under the pillow.

"This is just a kerchief," Jai said. "It is clean. Bite down on it if you wish."

George opened his mouth voluntarily and did so, glad for something to focus on while Jai made him lose his mind.

His thighs, inner and outer, the backs of his knees, even his ankles, all were treated to gliding touches, the grace of lips, the toying of Jai's tongue. George was grateful for the kerchief in his mouth muffling his cries, and his focus on the rope above his head kept him from just beating on Jai's back and demanding something, anything, on his--

"Mmmmmmmmmffffff!!!"  Just when he'd lost focus, begun to drift in the haze of sensuality Jai had created, Jai shoved up from the bottom of the sleeping bag and covered George's cock with his mouth. One gulp, straight to the back of his throat, and George's scream would have been heard across the lake if he hadn't been gagged.

Oh God! Oh God oh God oh God! Jai was sucking him, long, slow, hard sucks and George was helpless, powerless against him.

"Don't come yet," Jai told him, his voice ragged. "Just let me suck you."

"Mmkay..."  George almost sobbed. It felt so good, the pressure, the wet stroking. His cock wept precise copiously but George concentrated on the roughness of the rope in his fists, in the gentleness of Jai's hands along his thighs. Another head bob and another and another, and George found himself lost again, pleasure the only thing that existed. Jai pulled off his cock, the lost of his heat almost a physical pain, and then George felt his hips lifted, his cheeks spread, and he groaned against the gag. He'd washed plenty good, inside and out, hoping for the best tonight, but Jai's tongue, on his cleft, on his hole, was more than the best. He groaned again, eyes burning against the dreaminess of the rim job, and  was so adrift in the haze that he barely noticed Jai's blunt finger sliding inside.

Until it began to tease. George began to surface, his ass burning for more, and then came the second finger, the ritual of stretching, and George began to shake, sweating, the strain of keeping himself in subspace almost too much to bear.

Then a third finger, and Jai must have found some lubricant somewhere when George wasn't paying attention, because the cool and slickness against his rim, coupled with the stretch and the burn sent another round of need roaring through him.

He spit out the gag, needing to speak. "Jai, I can't, I... oh God... I need...I'm...oh God." He whispered it, still conscious that they were in a tent, and Jai slid a fourth finger inside him. Blackness washed behind his eyes as he fought orgasm, and sweat broke out across his chest, prickling with the pain and the pressure and the pleasure.

"I can't decide," Jai said frankly, his breath hitting George's wet cock like fingertips. "If I want to fuck you the first time, or just taste you."

"Fuck me!" he begged. In his life he couldn't remember being this aroused, every breath of wind across his skin agonizing in its ecstasy.

"Since you asked so pretty," Jai chuckled. He withdrew his fingers, wiping them on a cloth near George's head as he moved up the sleeping bag again. With casual strength he slung George's legs over his shoulders, and lined his cock up with George's asshole. George was still gripping the rope between his fists, and Jai paused for a moment. George realized his vision had adjusted to the dark and that Jai was just... looking at him.

"So pretty, my George," Jai chuckled. "Let to of the rope and grab your nipples," he commanded, and George was processing that when Jai thrust in.

George's mouth came open but no sound emerged, the enormity of the breach was so astounding. God, four fingers weren't enough, weren't close, and yet George had been prepped, so there was no pain. Only the amazing girth as it thrust slowly into him, making him aware of every invading inch.

"Put the gag in, little man," Jai told him, and George was beyond asking questions or protesting. He put the gag in and moaned against it, taking Jai's cock in further, and further and further and...

"Augh!"

"Yes," Jai whispered. "That is all the way."

George was shaking again, with the invasion, and Jai pulled out, leaving him bereft.

And then another thrust, and another, and another. Spots swam in front of George's eyes every time Jai bottomed out, and he realized he held his breath for each thrust. He pulled desperately at his own nipples, back arching off the sleeping bag, body consumed with the fire of Jai's possession, gibbering against the gag in his mouth with need.

"Breathe," Jai whispered. "Breathe. And whenever you're ready..."

Please? George begged in his head because his mouth couldn't have made the word even without the gag.

Jai pounded a few more times, then harder, then faster, until the fireworks in George's head were exploding with every breath.

Please? He thought again, and it wasn't until Jai ripped the kerchief out of his mouth that he realized he'd spoken.

"Yes?" Jai panted, body still rocking, hands back on George's hips where they belonged.

"Please?" George groaned, his body past endurance, past thought, past sanity. "God, I need..."

"Don't ask God," Jai growled. "He is not in your bed. Whose cock is inside you right now?"

"Yours," George groaned. "Please, Jai... please let me--"

Jai kept fucking him, the slap of their flesh probably resonating across the mountaintops, but George didn't care, would, in fact, keep fucking this man forever, as long as he could come right now!

Jai bent him almost in two and George's eyes burned with tears again, pleasure taking him by surprise as that enormous cock hit his gland like a fist.

"Come," he rasped. "Oh God, Jai, please let me--"

"Come!" Jai groaned, his body rippling, throbbing inside George's ass, and George kept his cry quiet, until Jai shoved the gag back in and then he let it all out, his body convulsing in abandon, his cock spewing hot and sticky between them.

Quivering, trembling, still rutting, Jai collapsed on top of him, and George spread his legs to accommodate, and still, still Jai's cock was inside him. He didn't pull out, just pumped hot spend into George's waiting chamber, both of them burying there faces in th e other's neck and moaning sweetly in repletion.

Soon--too soon--Jai pushed himself up on his elbows and plled the gag away. "How do you feel?" he asked softly.

"Melty,"  George responded, his body left shaking and unfocused in subspace. "I'm... no words."

Jai laughed, the vibrations shivering inside George where they were still connected. "That is a change," he said. "Because you kept trying to talk when words were not needed."

Jai laughed again, and to his surprise, George felt an aftershock ripple through him, gripping Jai's cock in a hard squeeze before it ebbed out, leaving him shaky and drained.

Jai grunted, collapsing on him, and thrusting inside again.

"Mm..."  George mumbled. "I could sleep like this." Whole, replete, full of Jai's cock and come inside him. He'd never known this could be a kink, but he was floating in a sensual sea, and all things sexual were good things.

"Mmm..." Jai reached up toward the pillow again and George used the opportunity to actually touch the man, his neck, his shoulders, his outer arms.

"That's nice," Jai admitted. "Let me do this thing, and you can touch me like that some more."

George could see well enough in the dark by now to make out the objects in Jai's hands, but he was so stoned on sex that he couldn't figure out what he was going to do until Jai did a lot of things in quick succession.

The first thing he did was shift one of the objects down near George's bottom and set it down. Then he used his hands to push George's cheeks together while Jai pulled out. There was no rush of come, and before George could ask why, he felt the smooth, soft sides of a plug being eased between his cheeks, slick with the same lubricant Jai had apparently used with the two of them.

He grunted softly as as the plug stretched, and then hummed as it seated. He was full--not uncomfortably full, just... full.

"Why?" he mumbled, as Jai used the washcloth.

Jai made that happy, humming noise and pushed George to his side, the shift putting just enough pressure not he plug to let George know it was there.

"Whim," Jai said, running his lips down the outside of George's arm. "I want to keep my come inside you. It should be a silly thing, but it makes me hot, to think about."

"Mm..." George agreed.

"And this way..." Jai thrust his damp semi-hard cock against George's backside, bumping the plug and sending ripples up his body. "This way, when we awake in a few hours, we will both be ready."

George hummed again, his body already tingling. So much he wanted to say, wanted to share, wanted to talk about, but he was as lost as he'd ever been, as adrift in sex as he'd ever achieved, and all he could do was let his body buzz with anticipation and his suddenly still mind float in pleasure and exhaustion.

A part of him was disappointed though. He wanted to tell Jai that what had just happened between them was the best sex he'd ever had, and even better, the most exciting thing he'd ever done.

Tomorrow, he thought hazily. After they did it again.

MoonFish--Surprise Visit!--Part 6

Okay folks-- just the MoonFish tonight. Enjoy--

Surprise Visit! Part  6

The trip up was surprisingly quiet, and at first, Jackson thought it was just because the damned tank was so loud without the extra padding and insulation that Sonny and Ace had pulled out to make it slightly more fuel efficient.

Then he'd glanced in the rearview mirror and had seen Lucy Satan asleep, hands folded in her lap, head against the head rest, perfectly composed like a vampire.

But vulnerable still.

He felt bad for a moment. Ellery's mother didn't deserve a hit out on her--but then, she was fighting the same people in court that Jackson and Ellery had fought on the ground that winter, so maybe what she deserved and what was happening had no relation whatsoever.

"What?" Ellery practically shouted in his ear.

Jackson just shook his head, unwilling to tell Ellery that his mother looked helpless, because as far as Ellery was concerned, Lucy Satan was invulnerable and perfect, and Jackson didn't ever want to change that for him. He felt like it was wrong on a cellular level, to let Ellery think his mother could be harmed.

They made it to Kaden and Rhonda's house, which was back in a little development called SugarBaker's Cove. The houses were on four to five acre plots, most of the plots filled with dense woodland beyond whatever yard development the homeowner implemented. Some people had four acres of swimming pools and tennis courts, but Kaden and Rhonda weren't rich, only prudent. They had a backyard big enough for the kids to play kickball in, and a lot of fucking trees.

Kaden and Rhonda, and their children, River and Diamond, were out in front, nervously pacing as they pulled up. Two ginormous fucking Boxer/Mastiff hybrid dogs were sitting patiently at their heels, waiting for the occasional pet so they could slobber on whoever offered.

"Uncle Jackson!" River had grown. She was, what? Eleven this year? A beauty like her mother, she wore her hair back in thick braids, and had gotten tall enough for Jackson to rest his chin on her crown when he lowered his head.

"Hey, pretty girl," he murmured. "What's going on? You haven't found him yet?"

River shook her head and wiped her eyes. "He was weird all week, like freaking out and crying and Mom and Dad couldn't get him to talk and this morning we were supposed to go to school and he was gone before we woke up!"

"It's a good day at school!" her brother Diamond told him. "We get treats and stuff, but maybe not..." He looked at his sister nervously. "Maybe not in the seventh or eighth grade."

"WE get them in the sixth grade," River sniffed. "I don't see why Anthony wouldn't get them in the seventh."

Anthony had started out as a lonely kid who'd taken a job to bug Jackson and Ellery's car. But once Jackson grabbed him--and realized that the one witness to the transaction had been killed--he'd become a witness in need of protection. Kaden and Rhonda had stepped up because Jackson had asked them to--and because the police didn't see the need at first.

But Anthony--who'd been a foster child most of his life--had fit into the Cameron household like he'd been born into it. Kaden and Rhonda had asked if they could take over his fostering, and had been looking into an actual adoption--and the happy ever after that Anthony had cynically believed would never happen to him.

Jackson had no idea what would make the kid take off and leave. Except...

"Don't report cards come out today?" he asked the kids.

"Yeah." Diamond looked at his father. "I don't get real grades yet," he said ingratiatingly, "but if I did, I'm sure they would be A's." His smile--wide and white against the ebony of his skin--was extra sugary sweet.

Kaden rolled his eyes and looked at Jackson. "I so believe that," he muttered.

"Yeah, that totally wasn't a line." Jackson tried to look sternly at his nephew, but Diamond's smirk was just so transparent he couldn't. "God, kid, you'd better get your act together for seventh grade."

Diamond laughed outright. "Well, yeah. They use percentages and letter grades in seventh grade. I know bad things happen to people who can't figure that out!"

The laughter relaxed the little family for just a moment, and then they sobered.

"Well," Ellery's mother said, a big bag of all sorts of treasures over her shoulder, "I'm sure you can completely explain to me why it's okay to not do your best in school when you're obviously smart enough to fool the system, but in the meantime, how about I take you children inside and we make some breakfast and let the adults try to find your foster brother."

"Our brother," River said fiercely. "He says 'foster brother' like he's afraid he's going to get moved to another home, and we keep trying to tell him we want him forever." She pulled away from Jackson to look at him with pleading in her eyes. "Uncle Jackson, we're the only home he's ever had. I don't even know where he thinks he'd go."

Jackson nodded. "I would bet he's not far away," he said softly. In fact, he'd put actual money on it. "Go in with Lucy... uh, Mrs. Cramer, and see what she's got for you." He met Lucy Satan's eyes and she nodded. "She came from a long ways away just to bring you good things."

Lucy nodded and disappeared with the children inside, and Rhonda gave a sigh of relief.

"Oh good, they're gone now, and I can tell you we are losing our fucking minds. Jesus, Jackson, where in the hell could that kid go?" Her eyes got bright again, like they had when they'd pulled up. "He was so happy until about a week ago, and he started slinking around like he was afraid we were going to drop the hammer on him at any moment. I caught him crying when I went to tuck him in, and he said he was just sad, but it's got to be something."

Jackson nodded. "I, uh...look. I've got an idea." He pulled out his phone and punched some buttons. "And better yet, I've got a tracker on him."

Kaden's mouth fell open. "YOu've got a what?"

Jackson shrugged. "Remember? I bought him that phone when I brought him up here. He took it with him, right?"

They both nodded. "Doesn't go anywhere without it," Rhonda said. "Those games you let him buy are like his favorite things."

Jackson smiled a little. "Does he have a charger?" he asked, and Kaden clapped his hand over his eyes.

"He's got my charger! It disappeared last night!"

"I bet he packed a lunch too," Jackson said.

Rhonda--who was Kaden's smarter half--looked at Jackson compassionately. "What is this about?"

"You guys, grades are coming out. This kid hasn't had you for parents very long--how good do you think his grades are going to be?"

Kaden groaned and pinned Jackson with a frustrated glare. "Oh Jesus--I should have known."

"Kaden," Rhonda said kindly, "it's not your fault--how would you--"

"Oh, trust me," Kaden muttered. "I'd know. Well, Jackson, where is he?"

"Let me go find him," Jackson said. "I... you know. I've got a little experience with this."

"Text us when you see him. I need to go have a heart attack."

"Yeah--he's somewhere in the backyard."

"We've been back there--we spent the morning with the dogs going through the area. There's nothing there but trees."  Kaden looked at the dogs. "By the way, you two were a terrible disappointment in the search and rescue department. I thought you liked that kid."

The dogs looked up at him, tongues lolling, and waited for more pets.

"Morons," Kaden muttered.

"Anubis, Orion, door!" Rhonda commanded crisply, and the dogs ran to the front porch and turned around, ruffs bristling, eyes alert for any danger.

"Yeah, honey. They're the dumb ones," she said sweetly. Then, to Jackson, "You can find him?"

"I promise," he said. "But maybe let me go alone."

Ellery grabbed his hand. "Alone?"

Jackson winked at him. "Trust me. We'll be fine."

There wasn't a hit on Anthony anymore, and the more people around Ellery's mother the better.

Ellery kissed his cheek and let him go, and Jackson kept his eye on his phone and sauntered around to the backyard.

Kaden wasn't kidding about it being a lot of fucking trees, but some trees are more memorable to an agile twelve-year-old than others, and Jackson spotted the appropriate tree immediately, then went to stand near the bottom.

"Anthony," he called, looking up, "would you care to explain?"

He wanted to yell--he really did. The kid had dragged him and Ellery out of bed, had scared his entire family, had caused all sorts of trouble, and dammit, over a report card?

But Jackson looked into the kid's tear ravaged face as he peered down from about twenty-feet, and couldn't even be mad. He'd been that kid before. So surprised that anybody would even give a shit about his grades that he couldn't figure out how to fix them before he let that person down.

"You can't tell them," he said, hiccuping. "You can't."

"Yeah, kid. Sure. Here--I'm coming up."  It wasn't a bad climb, really. Jackson was wearing a sweatshirt in deference to the coolness of the hills near Truckee and his jeans were relatively hole free. With a jump and a pull and some scrambling, he managed to make it as high as the kid was, and he stood, holding on to the trunk of the pine tree, wondering if he was going to have to cut his hair to get all the sap out.

Anthony had curly brown hair that framed his pale face, and a lot of that was matted together with pine tar. Poor kid was probably going to miss that hair when Rhonda had to shave it to his scalp.

"So," Jackson said conversationally when he'd caught his breath, "what class are you flunking?"

Anthony looked at him with red-rimmed eyes and a wobbling lip. "All... all... all of them!" He burst into sobs, leaning up against the trunk of the tree by Jackson's knees, and Jackson reached down and stroked his sap-sticky hair.

"Oh kid," he said softly. "Why wouldn't you tell them? Rhonda's a teacher--"

"She's a teacher," Anthony wailed, "and I'm stupid! And how could they want me if I'm stupid--"

Jackson sighed and scrambled down to a sitting position, on a limb about two feet lower than Anthony's. "You're not stupid," he said softly. "You just had other things on your mind these last few years. Which home you were going to, whether you'd have clothes or food, whether your next set of parents would be dicks--man, you've had a full plate."

"But everything's perfect now," Anthony hiccuped. "And I"m a loser who can't pass math! Or English! Or history! Or science!"

"You passing PE?" Jackson asked, hoping for a win.

"I keep forgetting my shoes," Anthony said glumly, and Jackson held back a smile.

"Well, yeah, some years are like that. Look. Anthony?"

Anthony stared at his tennis shoe as it dangled over the ground. "Yeah?"

"You had a raw deal. And you lost out on a lot of school. It's March, and you didn't start school until December, and your life was so damned up in the air. You missed out on stuff. That's not your fault. But Kaden and Rhonda can't help you if you don't tell them what's wrong. Bet you had progress reports, didn't you?"

Anthony nodded. "They're the old fashioned ones that come in the mail," he muttered.

"And that's why computer grades were invented. Believe me, nobody's going to make that mistake again. And that's fine."

"But I"ll have to repeat eighth grade! River and I will have to graduate at the same time and that's embarrassing!" he said. "I mean, she's my sister and I don't have anything to teach her. She knows everything and I'm so fucking stupid--"

"Okay, we're done with that word," Jackson said firmly. "Not stupid. You needed help. And of course you were afraid to ask for it--nobody's ever stepped up to help you before. But man, I've got to tell you that those people I just met in front of the house weren't worried about your grades, they were worried about you. River told Mrs. Cramer she couldn't call you her foster brother--she had to call you her brother. Because they love you, kid. And loving someone means forgiving them when they screw up. Screwing up is what people do. But if you're afraid to admit it to the people you love, you'll never see how much they love you, you understand?"

Anthony nodded. "You think they love me?" he asked sadly.

"You love them, don't you?" Jackson stroked his head again and wished heartily to get out of the damned tree.

"Yeah." Anthony actually looked at him--and then wiped his nose on the sleeve of his T-shirt. "How did you know?"

"Because, kid--you couldn't even run that far. You just climbed a tree where you could see the house. Did you even have a plan here?"

Anthony's stomach grumbled. "I was going to sneak back in after dinner and come back out to the tree," he confessed.

Jackson started to laugh. "That, son, is the shittiest plan in the world."

After a moment, Anthony snorted, like he hadn't been planning to laugh but it had just snuck out anyway. "It really is. See--I told you I was stu--"

"Shut up, kid. Not stupid. New. I was new once. Kaden's mom taught me how to be loved. I'm not great at it, but she taught Kaden everything he knows. You're smarter than I was at your age. I'm sure you'll catch on faster than I did, okay?"

Anthony nodded. "Okay. Thanks, Jackson."

Jackson's pocket phone buzzed, and off in the distance, up in another tree, he saw the flash of what could have been a rifle scope. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and read the text.

Get out of the fucking tree, Rivers, you are giving my boss the heebie-jeebies just watching over you.

Jackson rolled his eyes. Fucking Burton.

I am talking the kid down here. Are there any hit men nearby?

No. Apparently hit men don't know how to react to a fucking tank. They followed you until Roseville and buggered out. But we're here, and you need to get out of the fucking tree.

Jackson snorted and put the phone back in his pocket. "Anthony?"

"Yeah?"

"Hows about we get out of the fucking tree?"

Anthony took a breath that was mostly snot. "Jackson?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't know how."

Jackson let out a cackle. "Okay. So, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to lower myself down to the next branch, and you are going to follow my lead. Think we can do that?"

"Yeah. What about my backpack?"

"Put it on your back, kid. Let's get down."

It took them twenty minutes of breathless swearing and a bunch of scrapes on their hands and one on Jackson's cheek, but they eventually got down. By the time they landed, they'd alerted the people in the house, and there was a crowd around the base of the tree, ready to help Anthony into the house and get him warmed up--and cleaned up--and to discuss a shitton of summer school. Jackson only guessed at that last part, but he figured Rhonda and Kaden would have a contingency plan for a kid who hadn't taken the time to learn how to be a kid.

Jackson finally dropped to the ground and only Ellery was there, but he had a warm wash cloth for Jackson's scrapes and the promise of coffee in the house.

"What was the problem?" he asked quietly as everybody went inside, the babble ensuring that Anthony would be king for the day.

"Was failing all his classes," Jackson said. "Poor kid. I was him once."

Ellery nodded. Jackson had told him how Jade and Kaden's mother had made him make up a semester's worth of work in a week so Jackson could graduate on to high school. "Did you tell him that story?" he asked curiously.

"No. I needed to listen to his story--I mean, we're grownups. It feels like the same story to us, but to him, it was brand new."

Ellery nodded quietly, and then, before they could get to the porch he stopped and pulled Jackson down for a kiss. It was tender and carnal at once, and it reminded Jackson at all the lessons he still had to learn about accepting love, as well as of the fact that he and Ellery hadn't had time alone in their own house for three days.

But mostly it reminded Jackson that he was loved, and he was grateful for it.

"That was a good kiss, Counselor."

"You're a good man, Detective."

They both felt Jackson's pocket buzz, and Jackson grimaced.

"Who is it?" Ellery asked curiously.

Nice. Now get the fuck inside so I can get my boss out of his damned tree and give him a sedative. You people are driving him batshit.

"Burton says hi," Jackson told him without inflection.

"Really? He followed us up here?"

"He'd really like us to go inside now and stop climbing trees," Jackson added.

Ellery's eyes grew big. "Anything else?"

"We owe Sonny and Ace big money for the tank."

"Fantastic. Are you driving back?"

"Yes," Jackson told him. Ellery didn't even want to touch the tank. "Why?"

"Think Kaden and Rhonda have any alcohol?"

Jackson laughed as they hit the porch. "You don't day drink!" he protested.

"Oh I am about to start."

Jackson kept laughing. Yeah, sure, Ellery threatened a lot, but Jackson was pretty sure he wouldn't have missed that morning for the world.

Hiding the Moon--Part 6

So--it was Wednesday, which normally is sort of a big day for me, but it was raining and I was crampy and I sort of skipped aqua. I mean, still kids after school activities, but I have to admit, the extra time was put to good use!

So, got some writing done, and since the most exciting thing to happen to us was Squish getting a soccer ball shaped bruise on her thigh from playing goalie again, I think it's safe to say it's time to escape into fiction.

Everyone, enjoy Part 6!

Hiding the Moon--Part 6

Burton set up security measures at the windows and the doorway, including mirrors in the high corners of the windows to see if anybody was approaching their front facing hotel who shouldn't, and setting up his laptop so he could tap into the lobby camera footage and see if anybody was crossing the front who looked suspicious. Then he checked access to the ventilation system through the ceiling vent in the bathroom, and set tiny charges in a hole configuration in the closet--if the doors and the window were both blocked, Ernie could hide in the ventilation while Burton escaped through the closet.

Three exits and a contingency plan--Burton had been an A student in special ops, and he didn't let shit hang.

Finally he was done securing their locale, and time to make a decision.

Digging through his duffel he pulled out his emergency phone and set it up to charge, then sat for a second, staring from one to the other.

Both of them were smartphones, but one had been outfitted for him by his op commander and given to him by his handler and he'd trusted both of them to have his back.

The other one he'd outfitted all on his lonesome, and it was set to bounce off a number of satellites and receiving stations with every call.

One of these was untraceable except by friends.

The other assumed he had no friends in the one place he was supposed to have brothers.

He looked at both phones and then looked at Ernie, asleep and as trusting as a child.

Ernie needed him to give up any illusions to safety and to trust a murderer and a thief with his well being.

God, Burton hated ambiguity.

With a sigh he picked up the untraceable phone and called Jason's number.

"Who in the fuck has this numb--"

"Jason!" Burton hissed. "Stop talking and call me Snider." Their code name, over the years. Don't contact me unless Snider calls, was code for, I'm out unless there's a death in the family or a military coup of our nation. If Burton wanted Jason to call him Snider, then shit had hit the fan.

"Snider," Jason said, voice cooling to glacial. "So good to hear your voice. We thought everything was proceeding normally."

"The target was... unviable," Burton told him, which was a little bit of a lie, but not too much if it kept Ernie off his radar. "I walked away. He was wearing uncomfortable pants, if you know what I mean."

C'mon, Jason... remember all the people their unit considered enemies.

"Not denim?" Jason asked carefully. "Something heavier?"

"Yup--but still making head lines, right?"  A child's joke-- corduroy pillows making headlines, but Burton was pretty sure Jason would get it.

"Fuck," Jason rasped. "Seriously? Those kinds of pants? Not, like, linen?"

"No, Jason, not linen pants. Jesus. Who gave you that fucking contract?"

Burton could hear Jason's caught breath. "A naval commander from San Diego," he said softly. "But I've done some digging of my own, and I seriously think he's pulling a Bob's-in-the-bathroom here."

"I'm sorry?"

They'd joked about it. When a target had been too hard to find, when too many people had claimed to have seen somebody who eluded surveillance again and again, they'd told the story about the high school student who'd never gone to class and had all his friends tell people that Bob was in the bathroom. 98% of the time the target was just lucky. The other 2% he was already dead. Bob was never, ever in the bathroom--he was just damned hard to find.

"Seriously--he's stationed in San Diego, but he's having all his calls routed to a number in Nevada. He used to be in charge of a unit called Behavior Modification--but there was some sort of... I don't know. Scandal. Nobody's talking and everybody looks fucking uncomfortable when it's mentioned. And this guy is everywhere except in his office doing his fucking job. "

Burton chuffed out a breath. "Well he tried to use the Marines like a sledgehammer on a baby seal's head, and I want blood."

Jason grunted. "You..." He took another deep breath. "I can grant you leave," he said after a moment. "Six month's leave. In six months, come back looking rested and able, or turn in your papers. And don't tell me about your tip to Tahiti and there'd better not be any fucking pictures, understand?"

Burton understood completely. HIs job was to take care of domestic terrorists under the radar. If someone in the U.S. Military was working as a terrorist--or just as a cog in a mercenary assassins guild--the military didn't want to acknowledge a fucking thing.

But they wouldn't mind if Burton took care of the problem, either.

Burton looked over to where Ernie was sleeping again, except Ernie was regarding him soberly with big brown eyes. He didn't say a word, just blinked slowly, like he was trusting Burton to take care of the scary things so he could focus on the tiny little rituals that Burton was starting to suspect kept him sane.

"I'll turn this phone on again in six months," Burton said coldly.

"Take care," Jason told him. "And out."

The line went dead and Burton shut off both the phones. He made a mental note to buy a couple of burners, including a set that went from him to Ernie and Ace without stopping to pass go.

"You chose me," Ernie said softly.  

"Kid, you'd better have a good story to tell." Seriously--Burton hadn't even heard all of it.

Ernie closed his eyes and nodded. "When I wake up," he said distantly. Then, "No bad men, Cruller. Nobody but us. Can you hold me? I'm frightened."

Burton blinked in surprise. He was built like a tank and he cultivated his silence. He didn't like to be messed with, so he worked to make sure nobody messed with him--worked hard at a preemptive shutdown of any friendly overtures, but Ernie didn't seem to notice that.

"It'll be okay," he said softly, but Ernie shook his head.

"Touch," he said simply. "Let me touch 'okay'."

Burton stood from his crouch on the floor, by the outlet where he'd charged his phones, and stretched. "For a minute." He tried and failed to hold back a yawn.

"Take off your pants,"Ernie said mutinously.

"I beg your--"

"They're full of metal and deadly things and they have edges and buttons," Ernie told him and Burton could not help but stare at him in surprise. He was armed--heavily--but not many people guessed that.

"But what about--"

"Ankle holsters, knives, and the gun in the small of your back." Ernie was scowling now like Burton was being obtuse. "A knife under the pillow I can live with. I want you to hold me, dammit. You took me away from my city and my cats and my donuts and you owe me."

Burton wanted to argue that he'd already saved the kids life, but he swallowed the retort with another yawn.

No bad guys.

Burton had done everything he could--and this could be the last good sleep he got in the next six months. With a sigh he stripped down, setting all his weapons on his desk and taking the hunting knife--as ordered-- and shoving it under the pillow. He crawled in under the covers and pulled the scant sheet and blanket up over his shoulder, reaching out tentatively to put a hand on Ernie's arm.

Ernie scooted back until his bottom was nestled up agains Burton's groin, and Burton's sleepiness disappeared as his eyes popped open.

"Uh, kid--"

"Not now," Ernie yawned. "Later. Hold me."

Unbidden, Burton remembered the last time he'd been in bed with Ariana, his childhood sweetheart. How her skin had been so soft and she'd smelled so sweet. Ernie smelled like sweat and like donuts, oddly enough, and like cats--not like Ariana at all. But still, his warmth was appealing, and the thought of holding a human being so close--male or female--that his heart felt warm--soothed a cold spot that he hated to admit he had.

But it was there.

And Ernie was warming it now, body flush with Burton's, and Burton sighed and relaxed against him, resisting the urge to run his lips over the back of Ernie's neck.

"This is good," Ernie murmured. "I can sleep now. You should too."

Burton's eyes closed of their own volition, and he double checked his computer screen before he could doze off completely.

Well, he'd already thrown his career to the four winds--he was going to have to trust in Ernie for the next few hours.

He found himself falling into the comfort of the young man's body, and realized that wasn't going to be as hard as it should have been.

Scorched Haven: Part 6, Little Goddess Ficlet -- The Shift

It's been a while--and t's necessarily short while I edit and write other things,
but I think we needed this:

***

Colton's healing wasn't comfortable. His breathing may have evened out--he even spoke--but his body kept twitching, like a puppy with fleas.

"Hurts," he grumbled, and then sat up.  "And starving."

"Yeah," Zeb replied, looking around.  "We need food. Green said there's a gas station nearby but--"

"Starving!" Colton cried, puzzled and apparently in pain. Well, he'd been losing blood, and he'd just had to reknit tissue and bone, and the change left everybody hungry.

"Okay!" Zeb said, asserting some authority over the panic. "Here's what we're gonna do. We're on a back farm road--"  He closed his eyes.  "--I smell plenty of game. There's jackrabbits all over the fucking place. Gophers, voles, feral cats--"

"Cats?"

"Cats are apex predators, buddy, and don't you forget it. If it's got a collar and smells like people, feel free to let it wander. If it's got scars all over and thug-walks to intimidate you? Eat it. It's dinner. But you can't go wild. Just enough to tide you over, okay? You need people food too."

"Woof," Colton muttered, fidgeting. "Seriously? People food?"

"Yes!"  Zeb felt a surge of panic. All of this, and some farmer with an Uzi could take him out. "Look," he growled, pushing forward until his was nose to nose with his new recruit. "We're going out hunting, and you're eating and drinking until you can think straight. And then we're coming back to the car, you hear me? I did not get you out of that shitty town and then convert you to have you go running amok killing cows. I'm getting you to safety if I have to drag you there by the scruff of the neck!"

"Yes sir," Colton said, and to Zeb's surprise, he didn't sound sarcastic in the least. "How do we do this? I would like to be a wolf now so I can eat."  HIs voice cracked tearfully on the last word, and Zeb decided not to try his patience.

"Okay, clothes off."

Colton stared.

"Otherwise you shred them or lose them in the dust. Believe me, son, this is not the time to get modest. YOu're about to see more people naked than you've ever wanted to in your life."

And to prove it, Zeb walked over to the passengers side of the car and started to unbutton his shirt.

When he'd first moved to Green's, this part had freaked him out. Naked people in the living room, playing cards, naked people in the kitchen, cooking food. Naked people in the garden, fucking like lemmings-- you named the place, and someone was going to be missing their trousers.

But he was a werewolf, and that was pretty fucking cool.  Eventually being amazed over being something that cool had trumped being freaked out because people were naked. Colton would get used to it eventually.

He folded his clothes neatly and kicked out of his shoes, and turned around to see Colton looking woefully at his blood-soaked shirt and jeans.

"Not sure I"ll want to wear these again," he muttered.

"You got anything else in the trunk?"

Zeb tried not to stare. Yeah, sure. Naked people naked people blah blah blah blah-- this kid was built. And obviously over eighteen.

Wide shoulders, olive skin, dark nipples, muscular pecs.  Whether he'd been in sports during high school or threw hay bales around now, it didn't matter. He put Zeb's rangy, stringy muscles to shame.  Even the sobering view of his blood, drying to his skin around the now-closed wound, couldn't take away from the magnificence of that amazing body.

And hey. Wolves didn't mind licking dried bloo

"I do," Colton said, smiling shyly, pulling Zeb to the real concerns. "Same stuff I had for you in the backseat, actually, but not as clean. It'll be enough to not attract attention I think."

"Good- sometimes these little service stations have shorts and tank tops and stuff. We'll buy some of that if we have to, as long as, uh..."  Zeb's lower body was starting to tingle.

"Yeah," Colton agreed. Well, Zeb was probably not his first choice in rescuer. Besides being stringy, he had a narrow face and ordinary hazel eyes under dark brows. Green may say constantly that all his children were beautiful, but Zeb was pretty sure he was the exception. "Uh," Colton fidgeted, "where should we put the keys while we're gone?"

Zeb reached into the car and pulled them out, swinging the lanyard back and forth.  "Here," he said. "You take the keys, I'll take my phone. We've got to be back in an hour, because we don't know when our friend the bad cop is going to track us down, okay?"

Colton nodded and slipped the lanyard over his head while Zeb did the same.

"So... what now."

Zeb smiled.  This was actually the fun part. "Okay. Close your eyes, and smell. Tell me what you smell."

"Car exhaust," Colton said promptly, which was good, because the cars were at least six miles away.  "Dust. Uh... mown grass. Hay."   He paused and breathed, calmed, as Zeb was, by the natural smells under the car exhaust. "Trees. Fruit trees--sweet wood."  Breath. "Oooh... a rabbit!"  Zeb felt his body stiffen as he became self-aware. "Wait-- how'd I k now that?"

"Don't worry how," Zeb said. "Look, kid--usually you'd have a month before you had to do this. Or a week--whatever until the full moon. But we've got an hour to get you fed and to get some of your adrenaline bled out, so just... close your eyes and smell the smells. And the next time you smell rabbit, think about dinner."

"Fine, fine..."

They both closed their eyes again.  "Okay," Colton murmured. "Dinner. Rabbits. Jackrabbits. Muscles. Mean.  Hot. Hot, hot blood... "

Zeb opened his eyes when he felt the change wash over him, distorting his bones, pulling at his muscles and skin.  Colton's eyes were still closed, but he was no longer human, hair sprouting form every pore, muscles and bones bending, twisting organically, changing his shape as fluidly as sand going from one bucket to another.

When Colton spoke again, it was a growl.

Zeb met his eyes, and saw wolf's eyes, tranquil and accepting, staring back.  Zeb lifted his muzzle and smelled. Yes. There they were. Rabbits--a whole group of them. Wild rabbits--right through that forest and down that ravine.

Zeb could smell the fresh water.

He gave a jerk of his muzzle in Colton's direction.  C'mon, kid, let's hunt. 

He had a rookie to feed.