Page 84 of Darkness

He worked his fingers through Morrisey’s hair in a tight grip, earning an impatient whine. Oh, someone liked. Farren repeated, adding a petting motion.

The tightness started in his groin. He flung his head back, releasing a long, guttural whimper. “So good!” The sounds emerged as clicks and chitters—Farren’s native tongue as spoken from a human throat.

Morrisey redoubled his efforts, apparently unperturbed by the strangeness. So good, so right. Morrisey’s probing finger circled Farren’s hole, pressing in a fraction before sliding in with minimal friction. “Mmmm!” Farren bit his lips closed to keep from crying out.

“No!” Morrisey pulled off to say. “Don’t be quiet. Let me hear what I’m doing to you.”

The back of Farren’s head hit the mirror. The rooms were soundproof, and Sykes checked weekly for hidden cameras and microphones in addition to Morrisey’s check.

“Be vocal, but be careful not to hit your head. Now’s not the time to haul you to the urgent care clinic.”

“Isn’t your mouth supposed to be busy?”

Morrisey chuckled. Answer enough.

Farren released a barrage of sounds, alternating between curses and praise for Morrisey’s blow job talents. Seemed he’d forgotten how to speak human.

But, oh! Farren released a long, desperate moan, clenching and unclenching his fingers in Morrisey’s hair. Finally, he found words. “I… I’m going to cum!”

Morrisey went deeper, taking Farren all the way inside his mouth.

“Morse!” Farren shouted, letting go. Pulse after pulse shot from his cock. His vision whited out around the edges. He sagged against the mirror, the glass cool against his overheated flesh.

Power surged with light in the desperate need to join them as one. The light grew, surrounding two bodies but one mind. In a fevered haze, Farren dropped beside Morrisey, tugging on Morrisey’s cock.

Morrisey groaned again, the sound seeming a million miles away but also in Farren’s head. Damp heat sprayed his fingers as Morrisey shoved into Farren’s hand.

Once more. Twice more.

Morrisey sagged against Farren, sated, pliant, while a warm glow enveloped them.

Farren blinked back tears, sight growing blurry. He’d missed this so much. The connectedness, the oneness, the light.

How long they lingered, he couldn't tell. A few minutes? A few hours?

Farren regained his senses at Morrisey's insistent hand on his back urging him toward the bed.

“I guess…” Farren said, anticipating Morrisey’s retreat as he climbed beneath the covers.

Instead, Morrisey lifted the blankets and slid in beside Farren. “Is this okay?”

More than okay. Farren answered by turning on his side and putting his arm over Morrisey’s chest, more peaceful than he’d been in years.

“You called me Morse.”

“I’m sorry, I did—” Had Farren gotten the nickname from Morrisey’s mind?

Morrisey stopped the words with a kiss. “Shhh. I liked it. A lot.”

Trouble was, so did Farren. Maybe a little too much.

“Should I ask you about the white light, or is that just a traveler thing?”

“Remember the third entity I talked about? That’s the bond trying to form between us.”

Morrisey nestled Farren against his chest, the thump, thump, thump of his heart a lullaby. "What are you trying to say?"

"That we'd forever be linked to each other." Farren wouldn’t explain right now about being able to understand each other’s thoughts or how the ether on Domus might have created a spawn. “If you were a traveler, I mean. Bonds don’t form between humans and those of my former world.” Or so Farren had believed until recently.

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