NC-17, m/m
Crazy Eddie's Private Journals: Underworld
By Tiriel
I woke up this morning to the sensation of Cade's fingers running down my spine. "Mmmmmm, good morning," I said. I could get used to that kind of wake-up call, and so could the Little Paranoid, if you catch my drift.
"Eddie..."
"Yeah?"
"About that fight we had...the one about me wanting to keep you out of the line of fire?"
I started to roll over so I'd be able to see him, but he put his hand flat on my shoulder to stop me. "Yeah, what about it?" Okay, so a small part of me was worried that he was about to say he couldn't take it and we had to call it quits, or something. But he didn't.
"Well, yesterday I did some thinking. Everything I said about not wanting to lose you is true. But as much danger as we're both in, every day, really, I should tell you all the time, every chance I get, just in case. If I haven't learned that by now--"
"Tell me what?" Call me dense. I didn't get it quite yet.
"That I love you. I'm not good at this, Eddie, I've told you that. But I'm trying. And it's true. I love you."
I took a deep breath. Maybe it was a sigh of relief. "I love you, too."
He lifted his hand and I turned over. We kissed and embraced. It was so different from last night. Which I should explain before I continue. I just wanted to get the best part in here first, I guess.
When Cade became determined to join a crime family, I thought he'd be out of touch for days again, like he was the last time he went into the underworld. I did my usual and told him it was a crazy risk. He did his usual and argued that it would be worth it to find out what the Gua are up to. Which may be true, but I don't have to like it. I just can't shake the feeling that I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. And these new Super-Gua that he saw, faster than a speeding bullet and all, that's something that really has me spooked.
"So when do you leave for Kansas City?" I asked, wondering how many days apart this trip would mean.
"I was thinking we could leave tonight. I want you there."
"Absolutely!" I probably didn't do too well at hiding how pleased I was by that.
"And I'll keep in touch on the phone. I'll work it out somehow. If I have to, I'll just tell them the truth--that my lover is a real mother hen and wants me to check in regularly."
I smiled at that. So I was there with him, helping him out. I even got to go undercover myself for a little while. And I admit, I kind of got into it. The whole Godfather thing has a certain charm, and in addition to being Cade's--I mean "Nick Flynn"'s trusted debug man, I got to pretend to be the head of a serious Miami family on the phone. We kept in touch pretty regularly on the cell, like he'd promised, and I was looking forward to showing him just how far flattery would get him once the dangerous part was done.
After Sammy's car blew, taking the Super-Gua with it, Cade called to let me know that he was okay. Both of us were thinking about the last car bomb, I'm sure.
"Eddie, I'm gonna go for a walk, do some thinking. I'll be back after that."
"Be careful."
"By now, the Gua will have just packed up and moved on. I'll be fine. See you later."
It was dark by the time he showed up. I was just walking over to get a drink from the fridge. I heard him come in and before I could even turn around he was pressed up behind me, his arms around my waist and his mouth on the back of my neck. He paused long enough to whirl me around so that we were face to face, and then he started to pull at my clothes.
There was a desperation to it, a frenzy. I know the new style of Gua has him worried, too. Maybe it was that, or the dark cloud of the Second Wave that seems to draw closer and closer no matter what we do, or the way the car bomb reminded us of the time each of us spent not knowing if the other was alive or dead. All of it courtesy of the Gua. Whatever the reason, his mouth was hungry on mine and I responded with the same need.
We didn't talk much last night, and in the morning we found that we'd left a lot of marks on each other. There was definitely more use of teeth than usual. Funny that I'm using the word "usual" about us. I never thought we would get together at all, much less have a "usual" anything.
Somewhere between the point where I got his pants off and the point where we landed on the bed, I think it was when my mouth was on his chest--not that that narrows it down much, my mouth's spent a lot of time on that incredible chest of his lately--he did say something that I remember, something that was coherent, more or less.
"Eddie," he said, and I definitely recall his hands being in my hair as he said it, "I'm so glad." And in one of those moments of lover's telepathy, a well-documented phenomenon, actually, I knew that he meant that he was glad about a lot of things--that we were both still alive and safe, that we'd won another battle against the Gua, even at the cost of Sammy's life, and that we'd found each other, this thing between us that still feels so new.
So he pushed me down onto the bed, or I pulled him, or maybe both, but we got there. We were completely naked by then, and it somehow still wasn't enough. He wound up wrapped around me like he never wanted to let go, and we held each other as tightly as we could while he took such a rough ride that I question how he can possibly sit down today. It took us, for a little while at least, to a place without Gua, super or otherwise, and a place without ghosts. We wore ourselves out, and fell asleep still tangled together.
This morning, we also got to that place where there was nothing any more but the two of us, and we got there in a whole different way. Well, not entirely different, but qualitatively different. Don't get me wrong, last night was hot, but if it were like that all the time, we'd both be great big walking bruises. No, I have no complaints at all about sweaty Discovery Channel sex (how's that song go?), all teeth and claws and muscle. But I like the tender stuff, too--not to mention everything in between--and this morning was special. It was all tongues and fingertips and skin. Sure, gentleness was kind of a necessity after last night, but that's not why. He loves me, and he said it.
Now I know he can run a pretty smooth con. He's sure played me like a violin a time or two, when I was offended or scared or discouraged or even a little insecure. Genius requires gentle handling sometimes. And you think I haven't done the same? Pushed a button of his here and there to give him what he needed, keep him going when he got discouraged? But anyway, bottom line, I've seen a new kind of nakedness in him since we've become lovers--and no, I'm not talking about that--saw flashes of it in the time leading up to that big transition, too. I've seen pieces of him these last few weeks that probably haven't seen the light of day since before all this began, back when he and Hannah were living the white picket fence dream. And when he finally said it, told me he loves me, I heard that nakedness in his voice and I knew it was the truth. No paranoia or doubts here, folks. Just truth. I love him, he loves me.
Dark clouds be damned. I woke up this morning with my lover in my bed and a smile on my face. It only got better from there, and no matter where the war takes us next, I'll have mornings like this one to look back on, and to look forward to.
-More later, Eddie