STORY EXCERPT

Before Pierre could go through with his plan, he heard rushed footsteps and then people talking outside. Two men were arguing, and their voices were as familiar to Pierre as his own.

“Why did you come get me, Min?” Jean Luc asked. “You know I’m sick.”

“I can’t leave you, mon ange. I made a mistake once. I will never again repeat it.”

Another voice interrupted the dispute, the tilt of the words slightly accented. “I’m sorry to say, but this is not the time for arguments. We’ll soon have one hundred Sidhe guards on our backs.”

“Fine.” Pierre could almost see Jean Luc grit his teeth. “Let’s go.” He hesitated and then said, “But Pierre…”

Pierre’s heart thundered in his chest at the sound of his name on Jean Luc’s lips. The voice inside his head tried to urge him to attack, to hurt his brother, but he smothered it.

“If I leave him here, he’ll be killed,” Jean Luc continued.

“Mon ange, I know how you feel, but we can’t stay any longer. And we don’t know where he is.”

“We’ll come back later for your brother, Jean Luc,” the other man said.

Pierre couldn’t believe his ears. In spite of everything, his brother still cared about him. After what Pierre had done, he’d expected Jean Luc to hate him forever. And yet, Jean Luc wanted to burst him out of this terrible jail, this imprisonment Pierre fully deserved.

Tears filled his eyes as he remembered all the time he’d spent with Jean Luc as a child. They were still brothers, like back then. They had the same bond. Not even the madness that consumed them both could prevent it.

Jean Luc could be saved. He hadn’t done anything unforgivable, not like Pierre, and he had Min Yu to love him, to take care of him. Pierre didn’t have anyone anymore. Maybe that was why Jean Luc’s words meant so much. He knew someone still cared.

A strange sense of happiness flowed over him. This was his chance to redeem himself, at least in front of Min and Jean Luc. Yes, he’d ensure his brother got out of the building safe and sound. Maybe he’d even get the chance to apologize in the process.

A million conflicting thoughts swirled in his head, but Pierre just ignored them. He clung to his decision and, leaning against the wall, walked toward the door. Outside, he heard more men approach, most likely guards. Probably feeling the same thing, Jean Luc and the others left, but Pierre knew the Sidhe soldiers could, and would, trap his sibling inside the building. Pierre wouldn’t let them. He’d save Jean Luc if it was the last thing he could do.

It was surprisingly easy to break the lock on the door. Once he focused on his resolve, he didn’t even sense the weakness anymore. For the first time in many days—or was it weeks? years?—he felt free, free of the heaviness that weighed him down, rejoicing in the knowledge that he could, even for a moment, be the same man he’d once been.

As the guards appeared in the corridor, Pierre faced them. He was afraid, of course. A part of him didn’t want to die, told him that he still had many things to live for. Perhaps it was true, but the likelihood of survival in this situation seemed slim to say the least. And Pierre refused to back down.

“Stay back,” he croaked, voice raspy from the endless sessions spent screaming. “I won’t let you.”

The soldiers froze and just stared at him in obvious dismay. Pierre distantly thought that his brother’s companion had been correct. There were so many guards here. Pierre had no chance of defeating them. Perhaps…Perhaps if he brought the corridor down, he could block them, at least for a few minutes.

A familiar figure stepped forward as Pierre considered his options. “Now, Pierre…we don’t want to hurt you. We just want Jean Luc. Your brother is not well, and he needs his treatment. Get out of the way. Surely you realize that it’s the right thing to do.”

Pierre glanced at the doctor with a strange feeling of aloofness. He’d failed to defend himself in front of the man, but this time, things were different. Pierre didn’t have anything left to lose. No, he did have something, a final goal and a final wish, and he wouldn’t let them take it away from him.

“You may be right,” Pierre replied, “but I still won’t let you.”

Power surged through him, and with a thought, he sent it toward his enemies. The magic swirled out of control, destroying everything in its path. Walls crumbled, and the guards were sent flying back.

Pierre had no idea where the strong magic was coming from, but he did know he didn’t have a chance to control it. There were just so many emotions, some his own, some coming from others. Once he would have tried to block them, but every mind barrier he’d erected had been blown apart by the treatment. So he just let it flow freely, accepting it inside him, converting it into sheer energy. It hurt, God how it hurt. His mind felt like it would break down altogether, and his legs could no longer hold him upright. He was going to die. He just knew it.

Distantly, he heard someone approach from behind. He turned, and a brief vision of Jean Luc’s shocked face flashed before his eyes. “I’m sorry, mon frère…I’m so, so very sorry.”

And then strong hands were there, gripping him tightly. In a daze, Pierre saw an avenging angel come forth, violet eyes turning red with righteous fire. Pierre reached out to the angel, pleading for mercy. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again before everything went black.

ADULT EXCERPT

X’s mind whirled as he struggled to take off his clothes. The shoes flew off first, then the shirt. The zipper of his jeans irritated him as usual, and X ended up tearing them. Finally, he was rid of his clothing and joined Pierre on the bed.

Unlike X, Pierre had remained clothed, having just removed his shoes. He seemed dazed, as if he were just now realizing what was going on.

X experienced a pang of apprehension. “If you’ve changed your mind or don’t want this—”

“T-That’s not it,” Pierre interrupted him. Even if he stammered slightly, he sounded decided. “I do want this. I just don’t know…I’m not sure what to do.”

“Taking your clothes off is generally the next step,” X answered in an attempt to lighten the mood. He wondered if the reason for Pierre’s shyness could be that he was innocent in sexuality. “Is this your first time?” he blurted out before he could help it.

Pierre paled. “Uh…no.” He looked away from X, obviously uncomfortable. “Is that a deal-breaker?”

X caressed Pierre’s cheek and forced their eyes to meet. He was already regretting asking the question, but some things couldn’t be taken back. Perhaps it would be better to have it in the open, to make it clear that, from this moment on, they were beginning a new life at each other’s side.

“Of course not, Pierre. We’ve both lived for many years before knowing each other. It stands to reason that we’ve met and lusted over others.” X would have, of course, liked to be the only one to have touched Pierre, but he refused to let such a little thing spoil the moment. “It doesn’t matter.”

To make his message clearer, he pressed his lips to Pierre’s, feeding all his desire and love into that one meeting of mouths. Because yes, he loved Pierre. He couldn’t have denied it if he wanted to.

Pierre gasped, apparently surprised by X’s assault. At first, he seemed a bit uncertain, but soon, he surrendered to the kiss and to X’s dominance. Licking the seam of Pierre's lips, X demanded entrance, and Pierre obeyed. X moaned as he took Pierre’s mouth, devouring it, pouring every drop of pent-up passion into his caresses. X went to tear at Pierre’s clothing, and X didn’t even bother to try to find zippers or buttons. He tore them in a few swift, efficient motions, leaving Pierre naked beneath him.

Nothing prepared him for the first contact of their bare bodies. Pierre’s cock was as perfect as the rest of him, slender, hard, and rosy, the plum-shaped head slightly darker in color. It pressed against X’s belly, heavy and demanding attention. X’s own dick throbbed, aching to be inside Pierre.

X suppressed the urge to pass straight to the main event. He didn’t know what to do or touch first. As much as he ached to possess Pierre fully, he wanted to take it slow,to give Pierre the affection he’d been deprived of for so long. X may not be an empath, but he could sense it in Pierre’s voice, the longing, the loneliness and despair. More than anything, X aimed to cast all that aside, to give Pierre a true feeling of belonging.

He began with gently worshiping every inch of skin he could reach. He started from Pierre’s beautiful face, pressing light kisses over his forehead, his eyelids, and, finally, his lips. He took a slight detour and nibbled on the delicate earlobe, mentally groaning when Pierre gasped, “Please, X. Mon amour, baise-moi.”

X advanced toward Pierre’s nipples and enclosed one in his mouth. The tiny bud peaked and responded beautifully, and Pierre arched into X’s touch. The Sidhe’s erotic begging increased in volume, but X continued to suck at the bit of flesh, finding a sadistic pleasure in prolonging the sensual torture.

At last, he let go of Pierre’s nipple and reached down to grip Pierre’s hard shaft. “Tell me, beautiful. Tell me again.”

“Fuck me, X,” Pierre said again. He sounded breathless, and X could no longer deny him, or himself. He pulled Pierre closer and lifted the young Sidhe’s legs to expose his hole.

As he caressed Pierre’s buttocks, X realized that he owned no lubricant whatsoever. They had only purchased the bare minimum of hygiene supplies, although X suspected that Min had, indeed, bought some lube as well. It hadn’t occurred to X, since he never expected reaching this moment, at least not so fast.

His mind scrambled, and he found himself murmuring words in a language familiar to his ears, but obviously foreign to Pierre. Slick liquid materialized on his fingers, and X praised every deity in existence that his body remembered what his mind did not.

With a now-lubricated finger, X rubbed between Pierre’s cheeks, gently probing at the Sidhe’s opening. “What did you just do?” Pierre asked, panting. “Lube…Where?”

“I have no idea,” X answered. “We’ll figure it out later.”

He was displeased that Pierre seemed to have recovered some of his coherence. He wanted the Sidhe as lustful and lost as X himself felt. Grinning, X thrust his finger inside Pierre’s passage.

Pierre’s eyes widened, and his fingers dug into X’s arms. “X…”

“Shhh,” X whispered. “I have you.”

X gently stretched Pierre, at first with one digit, then added another and another once he deemed his beautiful lover prepared. All the while, he held Pierre’s gaze, smiling. He could feel Pierre’s nervousness, and it didn’t surprise him, even if Pierre had been the one to initiate this. There were so many shadows looming over both of them—X’s amnesia, Pierre’s illness—that one couldn’t help but be anxious.

But X vowed to drive all that away, and he succeeded. With each caress, Pierre seemed to forget about everything else, turning into a creature of pure pleasure, writhing under X. He thrust back against X, and X could no longer hold back.