Allie's War Season Three (83 page)

As he started moving his mouth lower, Jon tensed again, groaning involuntarily and clasping Wreg's hair.

He fought with what to say, whether to stop him...then felt his heart leap into his throat when Wreg's mouth and tongue were on his cock. He didn't try to stop him though, and found himself remembering this from the night before, too.

As he did, that pain in his chest worsened, badly enough that he was fighting not to lose it, sweating as he held himself back.

After another handful of minutes, he started to wonder why he was doing that, too.

Holding back, that is.

Wreg seemed to feel some part of his thoughts, and raised his head.

"Don't worry, little brother," he said, smiling a little. "You can relax...I'll take care of it, I promise..."

Jon only nodded, feeling that knot of emotion trying to force its way back through his chest. He wasn't exactly sure what Wreg meant by 'taking care of it,' but he could guess...and found he was right a few seconds later when he did let go and the seer kept him from coming.

He was gripping Wreg's fingers in his when the seer lowered his head the next time, and within a few minutes, he couldn't think past anything but the seer's mouth and breath and tongue and fingers. He could tell Wreg was doing things to him, things that brought that pain back and forth in jerks and waves that made Jon cry out, gripping him harder.

He was begging him minutes later, sitting up as he clutched his hair and his free hand, crying again, but once again unable to put a name to the emotion. The pain worsened until his toes curled, his feet cramping as his whole body tensed...until he almost wanted to hurt the seer, or maybe just do the same thing to him...

Wreg laughed, raising his head long enough to glance up at him again.

"You're more than welcome to return the favor, brother..." he said, but Jon couldn't help noticing the compassion in his eyes. "...After last night, you can do that to me anytime you want. You probably don't remember, but I even told you that then..."

Without letting himself think, Jon made up his mind.

He pushed the larger man backwards, so that Wreg leaned on his tattooed arms and hands.

Jon didn't want to think anymore. He didn't want to care about any of this...all he knew was, he couldn't stand the thought of walking out, lying alone in that room he'd shared with Dorje and pretending he didn't care. He knew this was probably just avoidance, denial, whatever else anyone wanted to call it, but he didn't care about that, either.

He lowered his head, and let the rest of it go, closing his eyes as he lost himself in skin and the other man's hands on him. Pain hit him as soon as he started, enough to paralyze him...it took him another few seconds to realize it was Wreg's. Once he could feel it, it seemed like it wiped out everything else, until he found himself pinning the seer's wrist, pushing him back whenever Wreg tried to help him. His pain worsened as Jon kept going, until he felt the seer's light as an invasion, the urgency in it cutting his breath.

When Wreg started losing control, Jon felt his whole body react, until he couldn't think at all. The seer cried out, grasping his back...asking him...and Jon found himself remembering doing this to the seer a few times the night before, including in the kitchen when they first made out. Feeling the pain worsen on his end, too, he used it to pull on the other seer, trying to copy whatever Wreg had been doing to him, putting more of himself behind every touch.

The seer was massaging and gripping his shoulder within minutes, giving low, pained gasps as he held Jon's hair, half-thrusting his body against his mouth.

"Fuck...Jon..."

He let out a longer cry, and then he was coming, sooner than Jon had expected it...seemingly sooner than Wreg expected it, too. Jon stayed with him until the seer was done, running his tongue over the harder end of his cock, and Wreg let out another low cry as his breathing finally started to slow.

"Gaos..."
He gave a short laugh, still out of breath, gripping him harder, nearly in a hug even as he pulled his lower body away from Jon's mouth. "Fuck me..." He gasped another half-laugh. "How did you learn how to do that so well at your age...? I thought I'd be ready for it after last night..."

He let out another low groan, pain pulsing off his skin, his arm halfway around Jon's back as he held him almost possessively.

Jon wiped his mouth, and realized his hands were shaking. Maybe more than just his hands. Forcing his eyes up, he made himself hold Wreg's gaze when he answered.

"Dorje asked me the same thing," he said neutrally.

Wreg answered his look with a small nod, that appraising look in his dark eyes again.

Then his fingers tightened in Jon's shorter hair, pulling his mouth to his. They kissed for a long moment, harder that time...and somewhere in that, it occurred to Jon that Wreg was being cautious with him still.

Not long after they parted, though, Wreg kissed him again, long enough that Jon managed to lose himself in it...long enough that he felt himself getting hard again, felt that pain building back up in his chest. When they parted the second time, Wreg's eyes looked slightly out of focus, and Jon noticed he was hard again, too.

"Dorje was right," Wreg said.

Jon just looked at him, and that pain worsened, until he could barely hold the seer's gaze. He felt Wreg's fingers tighten on him again, even as the seer's breath came short.

"Can I fuck you now?" he said, his voice gruff.

Jon glanced up at him again. Seeing the look in the other's eyes, he nodded, feeling another sharp pain hit his chest.

"Yeah. Okay."

Wreg didn't wait, pushing Jon once more to his back, more forcefully that time.

Jon was pretty sure he was crying again by the time he actually came.

It was hard to know how he felt about anything by then...Wreg spent hours on him it seemed, although if it was to get him off or get him to feel, Jon honestly couldn't tell.

But he no longer cared. Whatever that emotion was that wanted to choke him each time, it no longer felt like guilt.

Not exactly, anyway.

20

OFFENSIVE

"SO YOU AGREE then?" I said again, still a little thrown. "Really?"

He nodded, taking another bite of toast and resting an arm on the back of the booth. "Yeah," he said when he'd finished chewing and swallowing. "I do."

"Why?" I said, still watching his face.

"Because you're right," he said, picking up a piece of bacon in his fingers and gesturing a near shrug with the same hand. "...Any route we take will be risky. They've got us holed up here, afraid to move, and that doesn't feel right to either of us." His eyes met mine, and I saw a glimmer of that predatory look. "It's a good plan, Allie...an infiltrator's plan. This makes the most sense, given the layout of our resources and the few things we actually know." He gave me a serious look. "We need to bring the others in on this right away. At least Wreg and Balidor. Maybe Yumi, too, since she seems to be working a lot with both teams. I'll give them a map on splitting up the intelligence, in case any one of them gets picked up..."

"You mean creating cells," I said. "Like the Pyramid?"

He nodded, swallowing another bite. "Yes. You agree?"

I nodded, feeling something in my shoulders relax. More than a held breath, it was more like I'd unhooked a pin caught in my throat...or maybe some kind of pressure gauge I'd been using to keep my feelings back on the whole thing.

"Definitely," was all I said. "That's great."

"I'll call them," Revik added, touching his finger to his head. "Jon too...now that we know he's immune, he might have a vote on where he should help out, now that he's actively doing his own recruiting..." He gave me another searching look. "We may need him there, you know," he added more cautiously.

I nodded again, but didn't bother to hide my worry at that idea.

What he was saying made sense. If he was going to be logic guy, I could be, too. Jon was an asset now, plain and simple. I had to treat him accordingly.

Leaning back in the booth, I picked up my cup of coffee, sipping it as I watched Revik eat. I'd already decimated most of my eggs and was feeling pretty stuffed, but he'd been in one of his 'eat everything in the kitchen' modes and actually ordered a second omelette after he took out a veggie and sausage fry-up that reminded me of the terrible breakfast Maygar and I ate that morning we arrived in London all those years ago.

Watching Revik now, it was amazing to me that he used to have a complex about eating in front of me. I knew why, of course. He'd been beaten as a kid, severely in fact, for eating like a seer in front of humans. Since he'd been beaten so often by his uncle's thugs, and often without knowing why, or what he'd done wrong precisely, he'd gotten in the habit of doing most of his eating in private, at least when he could. He was still an exacting eater, even when he was ravenous. Not fussy, but unnervingly thoughtful about it.

I watched his eyes blur as he talked to Balidor and the others, using his knife to scrape eggs onto his toast at the same time. I couldn't help nodding to myself again, relaxing as I saw the more military-type vibe rising to the forefront of his light.

This was the right way to go. I was sure of it...or as sure as I ever was of that kind of thing, meaning the kind of thing that came to me without a lot of logic or reason. Like with the bank op, some part of me just felt it as right.

Usually when I had those kinds of flashes, everyone around me thought I was nuts. To have Revik agree to it so readily was almost unnerving. It was also a huge relief.

I didn't want Jon going, but the more I thought about it, the more that made sense, too. I could tell I was being slow to get on board with all of the changes going on with Jon, although Revik hadn't come out and told me that in so many words. He didn't have to. I could see it on his face whenever I said or did something that he clearly thought meant I hadn't been paying attention to who Jon had become.

And yet, still, my overall feeling remained one of relief.

I honestly thought I'd be in for a fight. I thought it would be complicated at best...requiring hours of negotiation and strategizing and convincing him, Balidor, Wreg and whoever else that I wasn't bat-shit crazy, or speaking purely from fear or sentiment. I figured I'd at least be told it was impossible a few dozen times before I managed to convince them to trust me.

I should have known better. Teasing from the others aside, it really did seem like Revik and I were on the same page with most things these days. I imagine it was some kind of 'old habits' thing, expecting him to fight me whenever I came to him with a plan that was so high-risk, especially if it was one I felt strongly about.

On the plus side, our lab techs had finally developed a reliable method of testing who was susceptible to the killer virus and who wasn't. So we now had two opinions telling us that Revik and I were immune...Surli's report from the Chinese, and now that of our own scientists.

We'd been tested last.

They'd spent the previous two weeks verifying all of their simulated results in the field, testing over six thousand random humans and seers in the New York area. The test produced consistently accurate results...and the outcomes even matched what Surli told us the Chinese tests told them in Beijing. Once our lab team had gotten the beta tests out of the way, they checked all of the seers in our party, as well as a few hundred more from the seer businesses on the middle floors and over half of the refugees living in the lower floors, before they finally checked out me and Revik.