Night Traveller (Gay Romantic Sci-Fi)

Chapter Twenty Five

Author's Note : Warning. Please do not read if you are not okay with male x male sex :)

They waited as the minutes ticked by. 

"He won't come," Dane said, speaking with his back to Ryan. "You know he's too straight, he won't even consider it." 

"Will you consider making do with just me instead?" he wanted to ask, but held back. He knew the answer only too well, it wasn't worth embarrassing them both. 

There was a soft chime at the door.  

Both men looked at each other, Dane excited, Callan nervous, just what was he letting himself in for? 

Callan felt his heart racing. He couldn't quite believe it, Mike was here, he was outside, any minute he'd be right here in the bedroom, they were really going to ... What was he doing, standing here like a nervous virgin? If he didn't let him in soon, Mike was going to turn around and leave in disgust, thinking he had been set up. 

Hastily he went to the door and opened it. Oliver was standing there, still wearing his black tee shirt and faded jeans. He looked revved up, breathing hard as if he had run up the flight of stairs connecting their two floors. His eyes glittered with a brittle excitement.  

"Can I come in, then?" he asked pointedly, as Callan was blocking the doorway, standing there just staring at him. 

"Of course!" Callan stepped back into the room. "I didn't think you'd come," he blurted out. 

"Do you want me to leave?" 

"No! No, I don't. Come in, we've just had a shower, separately, not together I mean, do you want a shower too or there's whisky on the table or we could get out some brandy if you-" he stopped as Mike put a finger across his lips and smiled, a more genuine smile than the one he'd had a second ago. Babbling, he'd been babbling, he realised.  

"Sorry, I do want to do this, but I'm nervous," might as well admit what was obvious. He ran a hand over the back of his head. Oliver was looking him up and down, his eyes heating as he saw the glimpse of bare chest, followed by bare calves and feet, betting that the governor was totally naked underneath that white fluffy robe. 

"Let's sit down together and have a drink for a bit, relax," suggested Dane, speaking for the first time. He wanted Callan tonight but there was no denying Oliver looked hot in black, the faint aroma of male sweat was intoxicating. He could hardly wait to get both men into bed but he had to play this carefully, he could tell Callan was on the verge of bolting. He let his robe gape a fraction, showing a rather large section of smooth alabaster skin and had the satisfaction of seeing Oliver's eyes turn towards him. 

He sat down on the couch, patting the spot next to him. "You can sit here, in the middle. Ryan will pour you a drink, whisky or brandy?" 

Obediently, Oliver sat down next to Dane as close as he could, their thighs pressing against each other, leaving room for Ryan on the other side. He shut his eyes for a second, trying not to stare where Dane's robe was gaping a little over his lap and tried to relax. Callan poured him a whisky and topped up the other two glasses, "Here you are," he said as he sat down. He was frowning slightly, he didn't like that brittle look in Mike's eyes, "Are you alright? Can you tell us what happened this evening, after you went off with Tate?" 

Mike took a big gulp of whisky as he decided how to answer. Should he unload or just rip Dane's robe open right now? The way he was feeling, he could pull Dane to the floor and take him in three, maybe even two minutes, then he could wrestle with Callan, see who came out on top. He licked his bottom lip and took another gulp of whisky. He needed to calm down, he couldn't take his agitation out on his friends. Tonight was supposed to be sexy and fun, not angry and hurtful. Maybe he should go. 

He sighed and looked at Callan. "I'm sorry if I'm killing the mood, here. I grew up in the streets of Kapunda. My father was a gangster, always fighting someone, trying to get on top, so naturally enough I was always getting picked on by the other kids in the neighbourhood. I learnt to defend myself pretty soon, picked up a few good tricks. Eventually he became head of one of the largest gangs and that settled him down a bit, he became more of a leader rather than one of the enforcers. To give him credit, he did try to make things safer for the ordinary people in his territory, but he was always operating on the wrong side of the law. Always working on the principle 'the end justifies the means', you know? Our relationship was good enough when I was young, I looked up to him like everyone else, but when I started growing up we were suddenly poles apart." 

"You mean he couldn't handle the fact that you're an om?" asked Callan, rubbing the back of Mike's neck, grateful once again that his own family had gradually come around to accepting him as he was. 

"No, that wasn't the problem," said Mike unexpectedly. "It was when I started to disagree with his way of doing things. I decided I wanted to follow the rules, do things the right way. I must have been a real pain in the ass, but I was young and oh so serious, I told him I wanted to join the Patrol. He laughed at me, until I took the step of applying to the Academy. Then he gave me an ultimatum, give up the idea or leave." 

"So you left," said Dane, snuggling nearer. 

"Yep," said Mike, sipping his whisky. He could feel the tension starting to drain out, maybe it had been a good thing to get all that off his chest, let the others know the reason behind his frequently annoying insistence on following the correct procedure. He had to prove to his father, and to himself, that he had made the right decision all those years ago, that the Patrol's way worked best.  

His other hand began to play idly with the hair at the back of Dane's neck. 

"Let me guess, Chang's your father?" Callan wasn't the head of a successful security company for nothing. 

"Yep," said Mike again. He drained his glass. Callan got up to pull the table a little nearer, and pour Mike a second glass. He sat down again and tentatively put one arm around Mike's shoulders, holding him close. He didn't resist. 

Gently he took hold of Mike's chin and drew his face around towards him, then he kissed him, letting the tip of his tongue push softly against his lips, hoping he would open up for him. 

"So that's how you found me. Let me thank you again for rescuing me today," he murmured. He was amazed that Mike had gone back to confront his past, that he'd broken, or at least bent, his personal code just for him, to make sure he was safe. Tonight he would give Mike anything he wanted. 

Mike hesitated for a moment. He had been intending to make his move on Dane, not Callan, but he liked the way Callan was being gentle with him, asking, not demanding. He liked the way he had noticed he was hurting when he came into the room, the way he had put aside his own desires and feelings to help him. He liked the smell of him, male and musky, despite the shower.  

His hand clenched in Dane's hair as he opened his mouth for Callan. His tongue was warm and gentle at first, tangling with his own, quickly getting rougher as he leaned into the kiss. God that felt good, tasted good. It had been so very long. Without thinking, both arms went around Callan, one hand holding his head close so that he could kiss him harder, the other slipping inside his robe, stroking that broad chest. He ran his fingers through the crisp curls of hair, his thumb found a taut nipple. He heard Callan's gasp and swallowed it. 

He felt Dane lifting his tee shirt up, pressing warm kisses against his bare skin, licking and nipping his way up his back as his hands slid around the front to caress his stomach. God the man had a body to die for, taut muscles, not huge and ropey, but lean and strong. He could hardly wait to get him naked. 

Callan had evidently had the same thought, his fingers were seeking the fastening on Mike's jeans, Mike could feel them brushing against the bulge of his erection as the other man tried to get them open. That wasn't going to happen while he was sitting down, they were too tight. He wanted Callan's hand on him, right now. 

"Let me stand up, and get rid of these," he murmured thickly. "And then I want to take you to bed."