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Garrett snorted and frowned. “You’re not scared of everything. You and I have been in the Resistance together for years. You’re barely scared of anything.”
Maxwell raised an eyebrow at him. “You won’t think that anymore after you see how often I turn black.”
“Are you going to stick around long enough for that?” Garrett asked, and Maxwell’s cheeky expression fell away.
After a moment of wrestling with himself, he answered honestly. “I don’t know.”
And Garrett—sweet, patient Garrett—just nodded, as though that answer was acceptable to him when that answer wasn’t even acceptable to Maxwell.
Garrett’s lips twitched in a smile. “Orange again.”
Maxwell laughed and pushed up his sleeves to chase down any remaining traces. “After black again?”
“No.” Garrett shook his head. “Blue this time.”
“Oh.” Maxwell bit his lip and dropped his hands back down to his sides. “The light blue?”
“Yeah.” Garrett finally pushed to his feet and approached Maxwell again. When he was close enough, he traced his fingers down the front of Maxwell’s neck. “Just along your throat here. Just for a moment.”
When Maxwell swallowed, his throat bobbed against the pads of Garrett’s fingers. He was so close Maxwell could smell him—clean testosterone and musk—and a flood of memories flowed across Maxwell’s mind’s eye. Some were innocent—Garrett standing next to him, flipping through his data tablet as Maxwell sat at his desk and ate the food Garrett had brought him—and some were very much not—Garrett tucking Maxwell’s face into his shoulder as he pumped his cock in and out of him and wrung every drop of pleasure he could out of Maxwell’s body.
Garrett’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and he traced his finger up and over Maxwell’s jawline, seemingly oblivious to Maxwell’s inability to breathe. “It’s dark blue now. Does the difference matter? Do the blues mean the same thing?”
“They’re—” Maxwell had to pause to wet his dry mouth. “They’re related but not the same.”
Garrett flicked his gaze up to meet Maxwell’s, and the touch of mischief in his gorgeous eyes told Maxwell he wasn’t nearly as oblivious as Maxwell had at first thought. “And what do they mean?”
Desire bloomed in Maxwell’s lower belly, and he made a small needy noise before he could help himself. He winced. “Garrett.”
Garrett’s lips stretched into that cocky half smile. He pushed the hand with the finger on Maxwell’s jaw up into his now-long hair and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “What do the blues mean, Maxwell?”
Maxwell shuddered at the brush of Garrett’s lips over the shell of his ear. They were so much hotter than Maxwell remembered. Right, because humans ran hotter than qesh, and it just made every touch of Garrett’s skin all that much more intense. “The light blue is…affection.”
Sort of. Maxwell was pretty certain “affection” was not quite the right word. In fact, he was pretty sure it was a couple orders of magnitude less than the right word, but it was all he could bring himself to admit to.
Garrett nuzzled Maxwell’s ear. “For me?”
Maxwell gritted his teeth. “Of course.”
Garrett laughed breathily, and Maxwell thought he might melt into a desperate puddle of goo. “Orange again.”
“Because you’re teasing,” Maxwell groaned.
“Am I?” Garrett stepped close enough to bring their chests together, and Maxwell bit back a moan at the sudden heat of him. “Tell me what the dark blue means, baby.”
“It means I want you,” Maxwell finally whimpered. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I want you so badly, Garrett. I always do, and I always have ever since I saw you that first day when you stumbled into my medical wing with that dislocated shoulder and that big ridiculous smile on your face. It was like I couldn’t even breathe, I—”
“Oh fuck, Maxwell.” Garrett dipped his head and captured Maxwell’s lips with a desperate kiss.
The sentence died in Maxwell’s throat as he melted into the kiss with a moan. His whole body went molten and soft, as hot as fire but without any of the raging, frightening intensity. Just heat and desire and Garrett’s lips gentle and insistent against his. He parted his lips, asking for more, and Garrett gave it to him, licking into his mouth.
Maxwell whimpered, and Garrett brought both hands to his face and plunged his tongue into him, tasting him, coaxing him, overwhelming him, just like Maxwell wanted. Garrett was perfect. He kissed perfectly, assertive but not domineering, gentle but not weak, desperate but not out of control. Maxwell could kiss him and be kissed by him forever, and when Garrett broke away, Maxwell let out a cry of dismay.
“You still have to breathe, Maxwell.” Garrett chuckled and brushed their noses together, and Maxwell realized belatedly that his chest was heaving and his vision had gone a little fuzzy.
“Alright, I’ve breathed.” Maxwell pushed against Garrett’s hands on his face to nose under Garrett’s jaw. He inhaled deeply and drowned himself in that intoxicating scent. “I’m breathing.”
When Maxwell flicked out his tongue to taste his skin, Garrett’s breath caught, and he tilted his head, giving Maxwell better access. Maxwell took it without hesitation, kissing up Garrett’s jaw to the hollow of his ear and then down the strong muscle of his neck. He could feel Garrett’s pulse pounding under his lips, and he laved his tongue over that point, flooding his mouth with the taste of Garrett’s sweat and musk.
