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Patrick tipped his head for Fal’ran to reach the other side of his neck. “Trying to.”
“You tell them anything?”
“Of course not.”
“That’s what I thought.” Fal’ran smirked. Of course, he didn’t. Because a man like Patrick didn’t break like that. “Like, I said, hot.”
Patrick huffed another laugh that ended in a rough grunt as Fal’ran smeared the cream over a nasty acid burn in the center of his sternum. “You like a man in pain?”
“Not quite.” Fal’ran flicked his gaze up to Patrick’s blue eyes and scented the air to check his simmering arousal wasn’t a sick figment of his own mind. “I like a man who can take it.”
Patrick’s lips quirked and rain and leather leaked into the air. “I can do that.”
“Yeah, I fucking know it.” Fal’ran nudged Patrick around to box him up against a wall. He braced his elbow beside Patrick’s head, ignoring the cilia reaching out from the wall’s surface and brushing over his fingers. “And you’re gorgeous when you do.”
Patrick moaned softly when Fal’ran rubbed the cream over his hip bones.
Fal’ran bit his lip. “If it’s too much—”
“It’s not.” Patrick shook his head sharply.
“Or if it’s too soon after…” After someone else hurt him.
“It’s not.” Patrick bumped his nose against Fal’ran’s, and his voice grew thin and desperate. “It’s not. I’m not calling time, Fal’ran. Keep touching me.”
“Okay.” Fal’ran filled his free hand with cream. “Okay. I’ll touch you.”
Patrick groaned as Fal’ran dragged his palmful of ointment along the burn down his side. “Shit, fuck.”
“You’re doing good.” Fal’ran kissed along Patrick’s jaw. “You’re doing so good.”
“More.” Patrick’s hands dove for Fal’ran’s pants and fumbled with the buckle of his belt.
“As much as you want.” Fal’ran smeared ointment down the last burn over Patrick’s chest and flicked his thumb over Patrick’s nipple. When Patrick gasped, he nipped the lobe of his ear and twitched his hips into Patrick’s hands. “Anything you want. Forever.”
“Fal’ran.” Patrick turned his face into Fal’ran’s neck, and his scent filled with longing. “You can’t say that.”
“I can.” Fal’ran squeezed the last of the paste into his hand and wrapped his arm around Patrick.
Patrick cried out at Fal’ran’s rough swipe down his raw back, and bit into Fal’ran’s shoulder to muffle himself.
“I was so scared, Patrick. I thought you were fucking dead.” Fal’ran rubbed the last of the medicine into Patrick’s skin and held him as he shuddered. “When I saw you open your eyes…” Fal’ran didn’t have words for the crushing relief of seeing life in Patrick’s blue eyes when he’d stormed the control room.
Patrick released Fal’ran’s shoulder and kissed up his neck. “I thought I’d lost it. I thought you were a hallucination.”
“I’m real.” Fal’ran delved his hand between them and wrapped his slick fist around Patrick’s cock.
“Oh, fuck,” Patrick gasped as Fal’ran pumped him.
“I’m real. And you’re alive. We’re both alive.” Fal’ran tightened his grip and stroked Patrick roughly, his own breaths short and ragged and his throat terrifyingly hot and tight. “We’re both alive.”
“You crazy bastard.” Patrick tore open Fal’ran’s pants and wrapped his own dry hand around Fal’ran’s length.
“Says the man who ran off on a suicide mission.” Fal’ran stuttered a bark of laughter through the moan Patrick pulled from him.
“To save you,” Patrick growled, tightening his grip on Fal’ran’s cock.
“And I returned the favor.” Fal’ran batted Patrick away and slid their lengths together, wrapping his cream-slick hand around them both. “Because I love you, Patrick.”
