Page 54 of Golden Eagle

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Sasha pinched himself. He knew it was silly, but he’d been doing it all morning, taking the vulnerable skin on the inside of his forearm between thumb and finger and tweaking hard enough to bruise. He kept waiting for this to be a dream. Was terrified it might be. And what if it was? What would he do, then?

He’d awakened first this morning, a rarity. It was always Nik – always a light, troubled sleeper – who woke first, and, on the nights Sasha spent sleeping across the foot of his bed like the faithful wolf that he was, spent at least an hour smoking, fighting his own nauseating anxiety until Sasha got up and went to make breakfast. But this morning, when his eyes fluttered open, while his body was drowsy and pleasantly heavy, still, he’d sensed immediately that Nik still slept. Slept deeply. He’d turned his head on the pillow, and there he’d been, facing away, the sheet pooled at the narrow span of his waist, caught on a too-sharp hipbone. The pale pink of healing claw marks down his back, where Sasha had marked him, while they’d…

Sasha had swallowed down a sudden surge of happiness almost like panic. It had been perfect. He wanted to remember it. He wanted more of it. And he was afraid he might mess it up somehow.

But he would try his best. Damn, would he try.

So he’d rolled over, toward his best friend, his partner, his everything, who was now also his lover, and put his arms around him, and snuggled up close to his back. And waited for him to wake.

After Trina’s phone call, they’d decided they ought to get up, shower, dress, and go find her. See what was troubling her. There was nothing else they had to do that day, Sasha reminded him, and Trina was pack and family, to boot.

They’d showered together. Pulling apart had been difficult, and then, when they were standing together at the foot of the tousled bed, naked, the new sun painting Nikita all in marble, Nik had looked at him, and cocked a single brow, that cocky, self-satisfied look he so rarely used, and never on Sasha. Sasha had bridged the gap, and touched his face, and kissed him. Then they’d stumbled to the bathroom, and into the crowded shower stall, kissing, hands sliding wet and warm over one another.

I’m addicted, Sasha had thought, palming over the stark cut of Nik’s abs, and lower, the soft flat of his belly. One taste and he was totally, cripplingly addicted. They’d been kissing, hot water beating on their shoulders, and pouring down their faces, flavoring their kisses, but he’d wanted more. Like skin was too great a barrier now.

The thought left him feeling foolish, and greedy. Finally, finally things had taken a turn, and still he wanted to go beyond that, somehow. A nameless yearning that left him aching.

He’d gotten awkwardly to his knees in the tub, leaning in to return Nikita’s favor of last night.

“Oh, you don’t have–” Nikita started, and cut off with a low moan that echoed off the tiles, hands clenching in Sasha’s wet hair, pushing it off his face so he could see. “Baby.”

He wanted to hear that again, and again, and again.

After he’d come, slumped back against the tile, panting, head tipped to show his throat, and the starkness of his collarbones, Nik had pulled him to his feet and reeled him in. “Come here, come here, come here.” A chant, hands sliding down Sasha’s back, settling on his ass, encouraging.

Sasha came all over both their stomachs with little prompting, only a squeeze, and a little rutting, and Nik’s breath warm against his ear, calling himbabysome more.

They rinsed off, toweled dry, and dressed, after. Ate toast. They didn’t speak, and for the first time in weeks, it wasn’t a loaded silence, but a contented one.

Finally, when they’d put the dishes away, and the coffee was gone, Nikita sighed and said, “I guess we better go check on her.”

Sasha had hugged him from the side, trapping his arms at his side, and kissed him loud and smacking on the cheek. “See? You’re sweet,” he’d said, laughing.

Nik had grumbled, but a smile tugged at his mouth.

Sasha had laughed some more.

They went to Trina’s place, and found her away, but her scent trail was fresh, and Sasha followed it the short walk to the hospital – to the morgue.

“Oh,” he said, pulling up short when they reached the now-familiar loading bay, and the key panel-locked steel door at the top of the concrete stairs. “You don’t think…?”

“No,” Nik said, right away, and Sasha wondered if he remembered finding the man’s boots sticking out from behind a dumpster. “She would have called. Must be a case.”

“Must be,” Sasha agreed, worry twisting in his stomach, and pressed the buzzer.

The door unlocked a moment later, and they stepped into the cool, chemical-smelling hallway to find Trina waiting for them, arms folded. Not exactly defensive, but not relaxed, either.

Sasha picked up worry; tracked the tension in the set of her shoulders.

He smiled at her. “Hi.”

Her mouth twitched to the side, a reluctant, but true smile. “Hi, Sasha.”

“Another body?” Nikita asked, because small talk had never been his strong suit, and because Sasha knew exactly how guilty he felt for being snappish with Trina earlier, but that he wasn’t going to apologize and play soft. That had never been his style.

Sasha loved him anyway.

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