Allie's War Season Three (165 page)

Jon looked at him, frowning a little, but not because he didn't believe him.

He found the pain in his chest worsening instead, getting bad enough that he couldn't turn any of what he felt into words, not at first. Pulling himself to his feet, he tugged up his pants, fighting another flush of pain when he felt the seer staring at him. He avoided Wreg’s eyes as he did up his belt, pulling his shirt down over the same as he watched the seer surreptitiously, out of his peripheral vision. He saw and felt Wreg wince as he sat up, from putting too much weight on his hurt arm. He felt Wreg's eyes on him a second time, even as that pain in Jon's light worsened again, pulling on him.

"What is it?" Wreg said. "What did I say?" Concern bled into his voice, even as more pain left his light as well. "Jon, damn it...don't misunderstand my reaction, please. You're giving me a damned hard-on, but I can feel something is wrong...what is it? Don't get pissed off because I react whenever you open your light...please..."

Jon shook his head. "It's not that," he said, sighing.

"Then what? What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything, Wreg." Forcing out another breath, Jon looked at the seer, his eyes drawn to the man's broad chest, even as he shook his head. "I just..."

Taking another breath, Jon shook his head again, not sure if he should go on.

"Just say it," Wreg said. He tugged up his own pants without getting up, fastening the front before laying his hands on the cushions, his belt still undone.

Feeling the coil of grief off the other man, along with a deeper, somehow more
painful
tug of pain in his light, Jon found himself looking at Wreg again, even before the other spoke.

"Are you still not sure about me, brother?" Wreg said.

Clicking a little under his breath, Jon walked back to the seer, sitting beside him on the cushion without meeting his gaze. Moving closer, he distracted himself by tugging on a wet spot on Wreg’s long, collared shirt.

"You probably shouldn't wear that outside," Jon said, once more swallowing, avoiding the other's gaze. "Do you want me to get someone to bring you a new one?"

Wreg looked at him blankly, then down at his own shirt. Looking back up at Jon, his eyes grew harder again, even as Jon saw them grow suddenly bright.

"Hey, wait, man..." Jon held up a hand, moving closer. He slid up against him on the cushions, using a peace gesture. "Brother, hey. I’m stalling, not avoiding." He slid a hand into the seer's black hair, caressing it back from his face. Feeling another ripple off Wreg's light, Jon shook his head again, his throat suddenly tight. "Please," he said, and heard the pain in his own voice. "Don't mistake what I'm feeling right now...please, Wreg."

Wreg averted his eyes, nodding as he stared at the far wall.

"What are you feeling, Jon?" he said. "You still haven't told me."

"Terror," Jon said promptly. "Abject, no-holds-barred terror." Pausing, he ran his fingers over the seer's face again. "Revik. He made it sound like that thing you said you wanted...back before Argentina, I mean...he made it sound like it was already happening. To us, I mean." Shrugging with one hand when Wreg looked at him, Jon lowered the same hand down to Wreg’s thigh, averting his gaze. "...Is that possible?" he said.

Wreg cleared his throat, shrugging his broad shoulders.

"It is possible, yes," he admitted, his eyes holding an apology again. "Nenz noticed something on the plane. Something that might have happened in Argentina..."

Jon nodded, swallowing without looking up. "How far along is it?"

"I don't know. Honestly, I'd barely noticed it myself..." Hesitating, he added with a seer's shrug, "Even in the car, Nenz wanted to know if I'd asked you formally. I told him I'd mentioned it, but that we hadn't talked about it. He gave me shit about that, of course..." Still watching Jon's face, a thread of nerves in his dark eyes, he held up his hands in a near-supplication. Jon couldn't help staring at the colored tattoos on both of Wreg’s muscular arms.

"...I didn't do it intentionally, brother. Please believe me,” Wreg said. “I had no intention of deceiving you...of doing
anything
until we'd had a chance to talk. Until you'd had a chance to know me more..."

Jon nodded, sighing a bit. He'd figured as much. “I didn't think you did anything on purpose, Wreg. I just wondered if you knew."

Realizing he really did trust the other seer, Jon exhaled again, still tugging on Wreg's shirt. Pulling him closer, he kissed his mouth, letting himself fall briefly back into Wreg's light.

Within seconds, his own light slid out of his grasp; he found himself fighting to pull it back even as he kissed Wreg harder. Wreg had his hand on Jon's cock a moment later, and the pain worsened...enough that he let out a low sound, pressing his body against Wreg's hand. Then he was rocking against his fingers and palm as he kissed him again, his hands under the seer's shirt as he gripped his back, massaging Wreg's own erection with hard strokes of his hand. He lost it when Wreg abruptly came, pressing his whole body against Jon, his skin hot enough to shock Jon into remembering what they were doing. Jon found himself climaxing before Wreg finished, still kissing his mouth as he dug his hand into the seer's back.

Wreg's eyes were glazed, holding an overt pain as he looked at Jon.

"We both need clothes now," Jon managed, leaning his head against Wreg's shoulder. "Can you call someone?" Another pain hit his light then, enough to close his eyes. "Fuck...Wreg. I feel so not ready for this..."

Raising his head, he looked into the seer's face, even as he felt another pull of that aggression in his own light.

"I want to go upstairs," he told him. "I want to fuck again...my whole body hurts..." Seeing and feeling the pain rise abruptly in the other man's light, Jon shook his head.

"We shouldn't,” he said. “I mean now, Wreg...we really shouldn't. Let's give it a few days at least...a week if we're being even remotely responsible..." Sighing a bit, almost in defeat, Jon added, "If nothing else, we need to give your shoulder time to heal. From what Allie told me, it would be pretty easy for us to hurt each other as it is..." He shrugged, using his mutilated hand almost without noticing he did it. "...It'll give us time to warn the others, too. Set up some kind of backup system until we come up for air..."

Wreg looked at him, his eyes holding understanding, even as he seemed to be battling with another influx of pain. Clenching his jaw, he just nodded, and Jon saw his eyes blur...the irises at least...and knew he'd gone into the Barrier.

He was out a second later, and glanced down at Jon's clothes.

"I asked the concierge. About bringing us clothes. We'll get enough shit from the rest of those assholes as it is," he grunted. Still avoiding Jon's eyes, he added, "I gave him our rough sizes, but I had to guess..."

When Jon continued to watch his face, Wreg turned. His dark eyes were almost sharp again, holding a scrutiny that made him look like the high-ranked infiltrator he was.

"...Are you agreeing to me, Jon?" he said. Wreg’s voice held the same no-bullshit tone as his eyes. "I need you to be clear about this, brother. It's okay if you're not...or if you're not sure yet...but I need you to tell me, now, where you are with this."

Jon nodded. He leaned back, resting his weight on the cushion behind the table.

"I am," he said. "...Agreeing, I mean. I won't lie...the whole idea of it scares the shit out of me. But it's what my light wants. I'm not sure I could fight that, even if I wanted to..." Hesitating, he raised his eyes to look at the other's face. "...Allie told me these kinds of connections are always two ways. She said it doesn't really matter who initiates it on the outside. That the connections themselves, meaning the energetic side of things, can only happen if both people want it." Jon paused. "...Is that how you understand it, too?"

Wreg nodded. A stunned look had come to his eyes, though, one that didn't seem overly connected to the movement of his head.

Jon nodded back, almost to himself.

"Well. So yeah..." he said, sighing as he laid a hand on Wreg's thigh. "...Then I 'agree,' if that isn't already a moot point. I just don't want to be stupid about it, you know? There's too much going on right now. They need you, Wreg."

Wreg stared at him. Jon felt pain on the other seer, worsening as his shock faded.

Then Wreg let out a half-humorous snort, if a bit belatedly.

"They need
me?"
Wreg said, rolling his eyes. "Little brother...I don't even register on the map compared to you, not anymore. I don't have 'command' written by my name on those lists. I'm not supposed to single-handedly bring the human soldiers to their full potential..." Smiling a little at Jon's teeth-gritted look, Wreg gripped the collar of Jon’s shirt. "You'd better let me find somewhere else to sleep tonight, brother...I mean it."

Jon shook his head. "Take the suite. My stuff's not moved yet. I can crash in my old room for now." He hesitated, feeling nerves vibrate his light. "Do you want me to tell Allie and Revik?"

Wreg rolled his eyes, smiling still. The smile seemed to exude from his very light now, Jon noticed. "I'm reasonably sure they already know,” Wreg said. “But you can tell them formally, if you want. I can feel Nenz at the bar still. I don't know where your sister is..." Frowning a bit, he added, "...Neither does Nenz. It's bugging him, actually..."

Jon nodded. "Yeah. I know."

He glanced over his shoulder then, feeling a warning ping, right before Wreg answered it with his light. The door to their private room opened then, quickly enough that Jon found himself pulling himself clumsily to his feet, attempting to salvage some semblance of dignity, despite how they must look. Seeing the male seer standing there, holding a stack of men's clothes, including what looked like brand-new underwear, didn’t help. Jon felt his face grow hot, even as he grew momentarily grateful for the dim lighting of the room.

The concierge set the pile on the table, along with a cloth bag that he indicated with polite hand gestures should be used with their soiled clothes and anything else they wanted washed.

Gesturing a polite response and a thank you, Wreg chuckled a bit when the seer spared a grin at him, lifting one eyebrow in Jon's direction.

Winking at Wreg, he sent him a pulse of light before he turned on his heel to leave the room. Fighting a more aggressive reaction, Jon gave Wreg a quizzical look, after the man shut the door.

Wreg must have felt the other, though, because he gave Jon a careful look.

"Do not worry, brother. I know him," he explained. "A bunch of us have a
rik-jum
game, every second Tuesday. He owes me a shitload of money...that's why I asked him. I knew he would not mind." Wreg was on his feet again, too. Watching Jon's face, his eyes still careful, Wreg slid a hand around Jon's shoulder, rubbing him there gently, as if he'd noticed the muscles that had grown taut from the interruption...and, well, from more than that, if Jon were being fully honest with himself. After a few more seconds of Wreg’s light and hands, Jon felt his body giving in, even as his eyes closed.

"Sorry," he said, not meeting Wreg's gaze.

"He knows about us," Wreg told him reassuringly. "Do not worry, brother. He knew before...a lot of the seers did. The look was him
congratulating
me...not flirting. That rik-jum game was pure compassion on their part. They did it to help distract me...and to give me an excuse to get drunk..." Gesturing towards the door with one hand, he grunted in vague embarrassment. "I drove everyone crazy back then. They probably let me win at cards, too."

Jon nodded, trying to get the words to make sense to him. They did, to his mind, anyway, but he could still feel that part of his light struggling. To distract himself, he walked out from under Wreg's hand and to the stack of clothes.

Pulling the smaller of the two sets off the pile, he tossed them down on the set of cushions across from where Wreg had been sitting. Without glancing at Wreg, he tugged his soiled shirt over his head, conscious suddenly of how badly he needed a shower. He wished he'd thought to ask Wreg to tell them to bring him socks, too, then realized he saw some in the pile, next to the underwear. Sighing a bit in relief, he bent down to unhook the clasps of the organic military-grade boots, his belt and pants already half undone. He got the first boot off before he realized Wreg hadn't moved to start changing his own clothes. When he glanced up, Wreg's eyes were on him instead. He was shielding his light, so Jon hadn't felt him, but pain eclipsed the normal expression on the seer's face.

"Jesus, Wreg," Jon laughed. "Pull it together, man. We're going out in public."

Wreg crossed the room before he finished speaking, moving before Jon managed to unbuckle the straps on the second boot. When he grabbed hold of Jon, it nearly made him fall, right before Jon straightened to stare the seer full in the face. Wreg coiled an arm around his waist, holding them lightly together, and Jon found himself conscious of the other man's body again.