Pandora: Liminal Space Book 2

Chapter Thirty-Eight

For the next half an hour the two of them talked about their lovers, their work and went down dozens of nearly-inconsequential little tangents. It was the sort of light, careless conversation that Garrett enjoyed and excelled at. He would have felt totally normal if it weren't for the fact that he couldn't see. Nevertheless, by the time Lila left he was in a much more balanced mood, feeling like he could face the rest of his onslaught of guests with equanimity.

Jonah kept things from being too overwhelming, but there were a lot of people who wanted to poke their heads in. Shekar visited, and Andrews and Ruxin, the scientists who had wisely fled at the first sign of danger. Ruxin, full name Leonard Ruxin, seemed upset by what he deemed his "desertion" of Garrett and Martina, but Garrett told him not to be an idiot and after a few minutes of banter they were okay.

At noon Rickie came to give him another shot, and then Jezria visited with Captain Carson, followed by a few more official types who gave him their sincerest apologies for the surge that led to the explosion. Garrett accepted their rote concerns with rote gratitude and waited impatiently for them to leave.

His last guest of the afternoon was Lawrence Sims. Garrett was more than a little surprised that it wasn't Martina coming to visit him, and it must have showed on his face.

"She wants to come, but I felt she needed a little more time to pull herself together," Lawrence said as he slowly, carefully sat down on the couch. He sighed as he settled back, seeming to creak. It was so hard for Garrett to picture this man as a contemporary instead of an elder, even when he was blind. Blind Garrett could hear the wear and tear that steeped every one of Lawrence's movements in caution, the sighs and groans of pain and relief. It hurt to hear him shift in place.

They got through the initial, familiar question and answer phase in short order, and then Lawrence paused. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. "My wife acted rashly and foolishly, but she didn't do it to secure her image as a martinet. When she gets an idea in her head Tina gets driven, to the point where she can't see the forest for the trees. She was so focused on getting the backup generators for the hospital that she didn't realize the potential cost of her actions."

"Why are the generators so important?" Garrett asked.

"Because some of them are going to be supporting the cellular genetics lab in the hospital, whose power generators have already quit twice. She's got one of her pet projects under construction there, and it means a lot to her." Lawrence sighed. "I'm dying, Doctor Caractacus. It started as bone marrow cancer and has since spread to my lymph system."

Garrett was actually speechless. He fumbled fruitlessly for something to say, and after a few seconds Lawrence kindly ended the awkward silence. "Cancer is how most naturals end up dying. I've already beaten three different types, but they just keep coming. The vaccines don't work on me, of course, and surgery is difficult. Every recovery takes longer than the one before. Tina is trying to synthesize a marrow transplant that my body won't reject, making recovery easier, but it's not going well. I'm not telling you this to excuse her actions," he added firmly. "If one of our employees had acted in such a manner, Tina would be the first to talk about disciplinary measures, up to and including termination of contract. However, she's got a terrible blind spot when it comes to me, and you were the unfortunate victim of her persistence. I'm sorry about that, Garrett. She is as well, and she'll tell you herself soon."

"I had no idea," Garrett finally managed. "I'm so sorry."

"It's all right. I've had years to get used to the idea," Lawrence said easily. "I might not be that much older than you, but I feel old. I've never been under any delusions about how long I'd be around, and frankly this is longer than I had figured on. If you stay here, Garrett, you'll come to realize that taking care of the caretakers is just as important as making sure naturals live a full, healthy life. For us the end comes fairly fast. For our loved ones, like you and Mr. Helms, our end lingers for many years."

Years. Decades of life without Cody, decades of Jonah mourning the loss of his beautiful son, mourning the loss of his family and friends. Mourning the long life that he was able to live that Cody simply hadn't been born with the capacity for.

"I should go," Lawrence said. "Thank you for letting me ramble a bit. I hope your recovery is fast." He pushed slowly to his feet and set his cane down on the rug. "Martina will be by later this week."

"Thank you," Garrett said, a little numbly.

"You're welcome." Soft footsteps, the nearly-silent creak of the door and he was gone. A few moments later Jonah reentered the room.

"All done for now?" he asked.

"Yes."

"You want lunch?"

"No." Garrett stood up and headed carefully for the sound of Jonah's voice. His lover's hands touched his arms after a few steps, sweeping upwards to his shoulders gently. "What I'd really like is for you to take me to bed. I need you."

"Garrett..."

"I need you," he insisted. "It's not taking advantage and it won't be weird unless you make it that way, but I really need you right now." Around me, inside of me, all over me. I need you to fuck the future right out of my head.

"I can do that," Jonah said after a moment, and his voice was suddenly lower, and darker, and then his lips were on Garrett's and it wasn't gentle this time, it was hard and desperate. "Fuck, Garrett..."

"That's it exactly," he said. "That's what I need."

They made it into the bed without falling by sheer chance, because Jonah couldn't have been looking where he was going much more than Garrett was; their mouths never separated. Then they were on the bed and somehow Garrett was on top, and he ground his hips down ruthlessly onto Jonah's, rutting against him before sliding his lover's denim-covered cock between his ass cheeks. "Fuck me."

Suddenly Garrett was flipped over, and his suit was torn away from his body as Jonah went a little bit insane, kicking and biting and kissing every new inch of exposed flesh. "Want you," Jonah groaned, his words barely a rumble in the back of his throat. "You...now."

"Take me," Garrett insisted, his own voice far breathier than usual, all the force gone from his lungs as he struggled to breathe through the pleasure. "Please." He didn't want to be the aggressor, didn't want to manage or handle or conduct. All Garrett wanted was Jonah, all of his care and attention and the pleasure/pain of his body and soul. This wasn't an easy man, but Garrett had to have him anyway. "Jonah."

"Fuck, darlin', look at you." A hand smoothed through Garrett's new, short hair, tickling his scalp and adding another layer of sensation. "So amazing."

"Are you going to make me beg?" Garrett demanded.

"Need you too much," Jonah confessed, and he pulled away for a second, just long enough for Garrett to make out the hasty rustle of falling clothes before Jonah was back on top of him, hard and naked and incredibly hot. His lips moved down to tease Garrett's nipples as one of his hands, already slick, slid across his perineum and over his hole. He pressed one in slowly and Garrett sighed and relaxed, letting him in. Jonah's touches seemed to linger now in a way they hadn't when Garrett could see. He felt the fire of his lover's body caressing his long after a particular moment was over, and it wasn't long before he was burning too.

"Now!"

"Soon," Jonah murmured, pressing back inside with three of his fingers and pumping, first slowly, then faster.

Garrett wanted to make more demands but he couldn't, his voice had crumbled to ash. He spread his legs wider and welcomed all of Jonah's attention, almost sobbing with relief when he felt his lover adjust his position. A lift, a push and then Jonah was sliding smoothly into Garrett, and both of them moaned with contentment.

The last time Jonah had fucked him, it had been a slow thing, only briefly quickening at the end before they both had come. This time is was fast and hard from the start, the strain of weeks of avoidance and frustration and sheer wanting wearing away at their patience until all Garrett could do was grip his lover's forearms and take him, deeply, reveling in every thrust and glancing strike to his prostate while he fisted himself. Garrett came first, sooner than he'd expected to, with an almost surprised half-gasp, half-sob as he coated his chest with his cum. Jonah followed a minute later, slamming into his body as deep as possible before releasing into Garrett.

There followed a strange, warm, swimmy kind of time, dizzy and lethargic, where Garrett just lay there and let Jonah collapse against him, slowly recover his breath, withdraw and clean both of them up. Garrett just let him do it all, smiling slightly to himself, and when Jonah reached over and enfolded him in a hug he simply shrugged an arm over Jonah's waist, not willing to exert himself to grab yet. He felt utterly in the present, and he loved it. God, he loved it. He loved...

Oh, shit.