Ki-tae sat up on his bed when Beau knocked at the frame of the open door. Beau held a large glass of the cloudy water.
“Devlin says one more dose of this and some sleep will clear the last of the gas out of our systems.”
“Thank you.” Ki-tae reached for the glass, and Beau came into the room and closed the door behind him. Ki-tae looked at him narrowly, wondering about his intentions. But he took the glass and sipped the bitter brew. He grimaced. “We don’t have a lot of time for sleep. We have to prepare for King arriving.”
“I know. And we’ll be ready. We’ll do what we can. But we’ll all fight better if we’re rested and alert.” He nodded at the glass in Ki-tae’s hand. Ki-tae sighed but got on and drank the rest of it.
“You could have warned me about Doug,” Beau said. He didn’t sound too accusing, only a tone of mild reproof. “I know you didn’t know he was working for King, but you could have told me about his debts.”
Ki-tae considered arguing about it, but what was the point? What did that gain him? Apart from the usual satisfaction of being in opposition to Beau Johnson. “Yes. At least after the truth about Devlin came out, I should have told you. I’m sorry I didn’t.”
Beau looked at him in surprise, as if he didn’t expect an apology from his nemesis. “Thank you. But hey, I probably wouldn’t have believed you and thought you were trying to drive a wedge between me and my crew. And it wouldn’t have meant we realized he was working for King either.”
He turned as if to leave but paused at the door, inspected his fingernails and then lounged against the doorframe. Ki-tae leaned over and put his empty glass on the nightstand.
“If you’d let me destroy that thing when I asked you, maybe Doug wouldn’t have sabotaged the engine,” Ki-tae said. “He’d have wanted to get away from King too then.”
“I don’t think the timing works there,” Beau said. “He heard you asking me to destroy it and went right away and set his little EMP bomb, so far as I can make out.”
“We still have time to destroy it. We can’t let King get hold of it.” Ki-tae rose, and Beau straightened from the doorframe. “Let’s do it now. Please, Beau.”
“If we do, he kills us for sure. I’m sorry. I intend to make sure he doesn’t get it. If I have to, I’ll die making sure that doesn’t happen.”
Ki-tae’s gut twisted at the thought.
“But at the same time, I’m not ready to see my friends die for it.” He gave a ghastly version of his usual cocky smile. “Nor you either, if I can help it. The Enivakara is the only bargaining chip we have at this point. If I can find a way to buy our lives with it, I’ll do it.”
“But King—”
Beau raised a hand to cut him off. “Can always be stopped later. If we get out alive to raise the alarm about him, before he starts anything.” He smiled again, less ghastly. “I’m sure you don’t want to see us all die either. Especially not me, since y’all love me so much.”
Ki-tae grimaced. “I only said that to try to make you do what I wanted,” he insisted quickly.
“Nah,” Beau said, shaking his head, his smile turning as wicked as usual. “That’s always been your problem with me. Y’all love me—”
Ki-tae snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Let me finish. Y’all love me, but you also can’t stand me.”
“You’re half right.”
“And it pisses you off royally, which is why you’ve been trying to bring me down all this time. Why you’re always so mad at me. And the thing is…the feeling is mutual. On both counts.”
“You’re in love with me, are you?” He tried to keep a sneer in his voice because the thought was making his heart thunder in his ears and leaving his mouth sandblasted dry.
“And I can’t stand you,” Beau said. “Don’t forget that part. But, yeah, I’ve loved you for years. Even though you get so far up my nose, you block my sinuses.”
For years…That was insanity. They were enemies. Enemies with an inappropriate amount of sexual chemistry for sure. But enemies. Definitely. But why would Beau lie? Here? Now? What was there to be gained? “Why are you telling me this? True or not, why are you telling me this now?”
Beau looked away from him. “This is going to sound like a line.”
“I’m sure.”
Beau looked back at him. All the teasing and wickedness gone from his eyes. He spoke quietly, the Southern drawl more muted, not emphasized as part of the performance art that was Beau’s outward personality. So quiet, Ki-tae had to take a step closer to hear him.
“Because…if we are going to die keeping that artifact out of King’s hands, then I want to be with you one last time. Not because of chemistry or for manipulation. I want it to be something I can remember in my last moments and know I can say that, at least once, I made love to Park Ki-tae.”
Goose bumps broke out all over Ki-tae as the words sent a spasm down his spine. He shivered all over.
“If that is a line…” He had to stop and clear his throat. “It’s a pretty good one.”
Beau shook his head, face quite serious. “It’s not a line.”
“No. No. I suppose not.” Ki-tae moved toward Beau and saw him tense slightly. When they stood only inches apart, Ki-tae reached past Beau for the door control. Beau’s eyes widened. His nostrils flared. Ki-tae did not press the Open button. Did not invite Beau to leave. Instead, he hit the Lock button. A sigh of relief escaped Beau. Then he smiled.
Ki-tae wiped the smile off his face with a kiss, pulling him close with a hand around the back of his neck, bending Beau’s head down a little to him, for those few centimeters of height difference between them. The height difference that helped Ki-tae to maintain his excellent straight-backed posture. Because Beau being even a little taller niggled at him irrationally.
Beau gathered him closer, arms around his waist, and steered him to the bed, like they were dancing, but still locked at the lips. Ki-tae was walking backward but let himself trust Beau not to allow him to trip over anything. His legs touched the side of the bunk. At last he opened his eyes to look at Beau, who was flushed pink and bright-eyed. Beau moved to sit on the bunk. Ki-tae made to follow him, but Beau shook his head.
“Stay there,” he said. Ki-tae turned to face him, and Beau rested his hands on Ki-tae’s hips. He ran his hands up to stroke under the sleeveless shirt Ki-tae wore, fingers dancing over abs, and on upward until he stroked Ki-tae’s nipples, which grew hard under the touch. Meanwhile Beau leaned in to kiss Ki-tae’s stomach as it was exposed by his exploration of Ki-tae’s chest. He kissed and licked the smooth, hard skin, and Ki-tae moaned. So good, but he needed more from Beau, needed that mouth busy elsewhere. He stroked the thick, dark-blond hair and whispered Beau’s name, voice pleading. He pressed in closer to Beau, and his hard cock, tenting the light cotton pants he wore, pressed against Beau’s shoulder and neck.
Beau moved his hands away from teasing Ki-tae’s nipples. They stood out under the thin fabric. He returned his hands to Ki-tae’s hips and moved back enough to look at the jutting erection straining against the pants. He mouthed it through the cloth, sideways on, making the fabric rub against the sensitized skin, until Ki-tae’s knees were trembling and he was begging for more, more pleasure, for relief.
“Shh,” Beau said softly, smiling up at him. He steadied Ki-tae when he wobbled a bit. “Can you stay on your feet? Or are you still woozy from the drug?”
“Nothing to do with the drug,” Ki-tae said. It was all about Beau’s mouth. That was what was making him unsteady on his feet. Beau smiled, seeming delighted to be having this effect.
“Sit down.” He didn’t give Ki-tae any time to resist, pulled him down to sit on the edge of the bed, then slid off it himself to kneel between Ki-tae’s knees. “That’s better. You relax, Ki, and let me make you feel so damn good, you’ll wonder why you waited so long to fuck me the first time. And why you ever stopped.”
“Too much talking,” Ki-tae said in a low voice, almost a growl. Beau talked too damn much all the time. Especially when he should be making better use of that overactive, pretty, pink-lipped mouth of his.
“So demanding,” Beau said. “I love it.” He reached for Ki-tae, eased the pants off over his cock. “Going commando too. You are so wild under all that buttoned-up agent front, aren’t you.”
“Please. Stop. Talking,” Ki-tae reached out for Beau, one hand around his head, threaded in his hair, and urged him closer. Beau came willingly and rested one hand on each of Ki-tae’s thighs, keeping them wide apart. He bent and kissed the tip of Ki-tae’s cock, making him buck his hips. He spent a good couple of minutes lavishing attention on it, licking and kissing shaft and head, nuzzling all around it.
“Oh God, please,” Ki-tae moaned, his hand tightening involuntarily in Beau’s hair, making Beau reach up and slap his hand lightly in protest. When Ki-tae released him, rested the hand on his shoulder instead, Beau finally gave him what he’d been begging for, and slipped his lips over the head of the cock, moved slowly down the shaft, taking his time to make sure Ki-tae felt every inch of his progress, every touch of lips that were almost cool in comparison to his burning-hot cock.
Only that iron discipline that served him so well in the dojo and in competition kept him from releasing a howl they’d have heard all over the ship. Or from coming instantly, the pleasure almost too intense to stand a moment longer. But he held out, and his reward was that pleasure building and building to an ever greater height. Hotter, harder, like a bit of neutron star, all its heat compressed into one tiny, incredibly dense and heavy point. He let it squeeze and squeeze more and more of that pleasure in, throbbing in rhythm to Beau’s sucking, to the throb pulsing up and down his cock. He twisted the fabric of Beau’s shirt in his fist, pulling Beau still closer. Beau deep throated him with the ease of much practice, better than he’d been that long ago first night, as unforgettable as it had seemed for so long. A memory he eased himself to sleep with and chewed on bitterly in the day. But nothing was bitter in this moment. All was sweet, hot, close, so close, so…so…
“Beau, yes, now,” he cried out a warning, a cry of triumph, he didn’t know. But Beau gave him a few extra-hard sucks, and that took him, finished him. Light poured from that point inside him where the pressure had built. Heat poured with it, until he feared anything he touched might burst into flames. And then he was the flame, consumed by the white-hot pleasure.
* * * *
Beau eased Ki-tae down to lie on the bunk, Ki-tae limp in his arms, face transformed by bliss. He was murmuring something in Korean that Beau didn’t understand. When Beau climbed onto the bunk beside him, Ki-tae moved with more purpose, reaching for Beau to pull him down into a kiss.
“Ah,” Ki-tae said a moment later, breaking away. “I taste myself on your lips. I love to taste that.”
“What else do you love?” Beau asked. Ki-tae’s hazy eyes focused on him.
“You,” he breathed softly.
Beau grinned. “Good as that is to hear, I hoped you might mean something more…practical. Something you can get your hands on…” With that he took Ki-tae’s hand and wrapped it around his stiff cock poking out of his unzipped pants. “You love that? You love it inside?”
Ki-tae’s eyes widened in a gratifying way. “Yes,” he said, voice breathy, deep. “I want it in me.”
“Always happy to cooperate with the agency,” Beau said. “Let’s get out of these clothes. I’m sweating right through this shirt.”
They managed to shed the clothes with much wriggling about and laughter—Ki-tae’s sounding on the edge of hysteria. Before dropping his pants off the side of the bunk, Beau retrieved a condom and lube he’d brought with him, hoping, praying, he’d get to use them. Maybe for the last time. Ki-tae turned on his front as Beau put on the condom, then lubed up his fingers.
“Relax,” Beau said, but it was an automatic reflex to say it. Ki-tae hadn’t been this spectacularly relaxed since the night in the conference hotel. He slid one finger into Ki-tae, slipping in between those firm ass cheeks. The muscles contracted and gripped his fingers as he pushed past the tight ring.
“Always said you were a tight-ass,” Beau said. Ki-tae threw him a look over his shoulder that made Beau’s cock throb. “God, I love it when you flash your eyes at me like that. Ah, yeah, you feel it?” He slid a second finger in. Ki-tae again clenched and then relaxed. Allowed a third digit in. Beau stroked inside the sensitive flesh, trying to find the prostate. When Ki-tae’s hips thrashed and he cried out wildly, Beau grinned. “And there’s that hot button, huh?” He massaged it for a couple of minutes, until Ki-tae was panting, begging him for more.
Beau moved to kneel between his thighs, grabbed hold of Ki-tae’s hips, and pulled him back toward Beau, onto his lap almost, but entering Ki-tae with a swift and sure thrust. Ki-tae, arms stretched out front, back arched like a cat, cried out.
“Oh, Beau! Yes!”
Beau was deep inside, right to the base of his cock. He paused, giving Ki-tae time to adjust to the fullness, giving himself time to relish the tightness and heat. When he started his thrusts it was slow, rocking back and forth for a moment, provoking soft moans, then pulling out and pushing back in, still slow, but producing sharper, needier sounds from Ki-tae.
“Harder,” Ki-tae demanded. So strong-willed and independent out of bed. Just the same in it. Even when he begged for his pleasure, it was as hard to ignore as a command. He shoved back against Beau. Pushed and pulled, fucking himself on Beau’s cock, leaving Beau free for a moment to simply marvel at him. But the sight was too delicious to watch and do nothing. He grasped Ki-tae’s hips harder, pushed himself onto his knees until he was kneeling up, Ki-tae’s ass high, his shoulders low, arms still stretched, hanging on to the mattress. Wanton and given up entirely to pleasure. His hair had gone damp and heavy with sweat. His golden-brown skin glowed with it. Beautiful to behold. Beau thrust hard, again and again, whipping them both to frenzy. As he grew closer and closer, he again pulled Ki-tae to sit up, straddling his lap, impaled on his cock and riding it hard.
He buried his face in the skin of Ki-tae’s back and shoulder, his neck, his hair. Ki-tae craned around, leaning down to look into his eyes, to accept what kisses Beau could manage to land on his lips.
“You’re perfect,” Beau said, breath short. “So perfect.”
“Nobody is perfect,” Ki-tae panted back at him.
“Always an argument with you, isn’t it?” Beau laughed, because he loved it. Loved to argue with Ki-tae, to spar and fight with him, to fuck him. “I love you,” he said, getting it out in a sequence of short, panting breaths. “I. Love. You.”
“Love you,” Ki-tae responded. “I love you, Beau Johnson.”
Beau’s orgasm followed fast on Ki-tae’s words. Surging out of him, pouring into Ki-tae, filling them both with so much heat and light, it should have leaked from their pores.
“Oh God,” he moaned. “Oh, God!” A few final thrusts, before he was supporting Ki-tae’s weight on him, and the two of them collapsed onto the bunk, Beau lying half over Ki-tae. He reached down to rest a hand on one of Ki-tae’s ass cheeks.
Mine. Always.
However long that might be.