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Patrick made a face at hearing Fal’ran refer to Dominic Turner by a nickname. “I know that.”
“He’s sensitive about something he did.” Fal’ran let out a shaky exhale when Patrick found a knot in his calf and Patrick’s cock plumped at the sound. “What did he do? Sazahk, I mean.”
“I don’t know.” Patrick hadn’t cared when Sazahk first joined, and for all his talk about how hurting other people differed from hurting yourself, it still didn’t matter to him in terms of making a judgment call on Sazahk. But whatever it was ate at the qesh and that did matter to him. “But he was well-embedded in a major criminal organization when I met him, so it can’t have been good.”
“Can you find out?” Fal’ran wrapped his fingers around the edges of his stool, his knuckles turning white as Patrick attacked the knot in his muscle.
“Maybe.” Patrick’s mouth dried as Fal’ran breathed through the pain. Was it wrong that he liked that? He’d never considered it to be wrong that he was attracted to klah’eel, but with Fal’ran he was realizing there was more to his desire than a need to kiss a mouth with tusks. “Breathe out. I almost got it.”
Fal’ran’s breath whooshed out in a sigh and his muscle loosened under Patrick’s fingers.
“There you go.” Patrick's lips tugged into a smile as he massaged the muscle, finding the rest of it smooth and strong. “I’m proud of you.”
Fal’ran’s eyes snapped up to his, hot and hopeful. But the younger man quickly huffed a laugh to cover the vulnerability. “For getting through a muscle cramp?”
“For thinking about Sazahk and being concerned about him.” Patrick’s massage morphed into something less functional and more affectionate.
Fal’ran shrugged a soldier. “Who said I was concerned?” He laughed when Patrick rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know. I am.” He shrugged again. “Like I said, maybe teams aren’t so bad.”
“And that’s why I’m proud of you.” Patrick released Fal’ran’s leg, but Fal’ran caught his hand before he pushed Fal’ran’s foot.
“The leg cramps are gone, you know.” Fal’ran slid Patrick’s hand up and over his knee and Patrick’s breath hitched as his palm skated up the firm muscle of Fal’ran’s thigh. “You can check for yourself.”
“Are they?” Patrick placed his other hand on Fal’ran’s opposite leg and stood in the space between his thighs. “You must still be sore, though.”
Fal’ran let go of Patrick’s hand, leaving him frighteningly free to explore, and propped his elbows on the counter behind him again. “Only a little.”
“So this doesn’t hurt?” Patrick dug his fingers into Fal’ran’s quads and Fal’ran sucked in a sharp inhale. He rubbed harder to make Fal’ran’s breath stutter and his cock filled so quickly the blood rushed in his ears.
“It’s a good hurt.” Fal’ran panted and slid lower on the stool.
Patrick closed the distance between them, bringing his hips flush against the V of Fal’ran’s legs, and crawling his hands higher up Fal’ran’s thighs. The thwarted need from the day before roared back and caught Patrick between his ever-present fear of intimacy and a desperate desire to crawl inside Fal’ran’s skin. “Are you sure?”
“About what?” Fal’ran wrapped his legs around Patrick and they both groaned when their lengths ground together.
“About wanting to do this with me?” Patrick’s hands clenched and released over Fal’ran’s upper thighs as he warred with himself. “You don’t have to. You don’t owe it to me. It won’t change how I treat you or how much support I give you. I’ll still go to bat—”
“Why do you always fight this?” Fal’ran captured Patrick’s face in both hands. Patrick hadn’t realized he’d been avoiding eye contact until Fal’ran forced it on him. He rolled his hips up against Patrick’s and stared meaningfully into his eyes as the pleasure thrummed through him, making Patrick flush.
“I’m not.” Patrick grabbed at the muscle of Fal’ran’s sides and filled his hands with the hot bulk of him. He had been. When he’d been worried about his position on the team, worried about Fal’ran respecting him, worried about respecting himself, worried that if he did anything wrong, everything would come crashing down. It seemed foolish now to deny himself Fal’ran and deny Fal’ran himself when being with this man was clearly the least wrong thing he could do. “Not anymore.”
“Then stop trying to talk me out of it.” Fal’ran pulled Patrick down into a commanding kiss.
Heat roared up Patrick’s spine as he groaned into Fal’ran’s mouth. He let the younger man turn and tilt his head with his firm hands and parted his lips for him when Fal’ran’s tongue licked aggressively against them. He let the kiss dominate him, fuck worrying that it made him weak, or that it made Fal’ran respect him less. If Fal’ran wanted to make his head spin and his body quake, Patrick would give it to him.
Fal’ran plunged his tongue into Patrick’s mouth and coaxed Patrick’s into his, sucking and nipping. The slickness and the slide and the rough, insinuating thrust of Fal’ran’s tongue made Patrick’s knees weak. He whined and pressed closer to Fal’ran’s body, steadying himself with one hand on the younger man’s hip and one on the counter behind him.
“You never answered my question.” Fal’ran broke the kiss and silenced Patrick’s bereft sound by cupping him through his pants.
Patrick’s eyes rolled back, and he dropped his forehead onto Fal’ran’s shoulder. “What—” he rubbed himself against Fal’ran’s huge palm, his lower belly tightening and his thighs shaking “—what question?”
Fal’ran licked the edge of Patrick’s ear and breathed hotly into it. He chuckled when Patrick’s hips stuttered and nipped it, kissing and sucking. Fuck, the things Fal’ran taught Patrick about himself. His ears? Really? He thrust into Fal’ran’s hand, heedless of the very real possibility of coming in his pants like a teenager.
“Fal’ran,” Patrick turned his face into Fal’ran’s neck and inhaled the unmistakable tang of his musk. “What question?”
“Has anyone ever sucked your cock better than I did?” Fal’ran punctuated his question with an assertive squeeze on Patrick's balls.
Patrick clenched his eyes shut. Fear and shame mixed with the desire in his gut in a nauseating churn. The only thing that outweighed the disgust of telling Fal’ran the truth was the disgust of being dishonest with him. After everything, and with Patrick’s feelings so strong, dishonesty tasted utterly unpalatable.
