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"True. But would you love me half so well if I did not look after my friends?" Liam gently bumped his forehead against Jordan's. "I know your answer is both 'yes' and 'no.' Do not apologize. I am not an easy man to be with."
"I wouldn't know. You come, you cum, you go." Jordan got a grip on the back of Liam's neck, holding him in place. "How about you come and you stay put some time?"
"Would that I could," Liam said, so softly Jordan almost didn't hear. "Ahh. I can read you so easily; I can see how eager you are to fight, to help. You are a big man, Jordan. Tall enough to dwarf me, with muscles so strong and firm. You would battle on my behalf, but, beloved, this is not a war that brute muscles can win, and I must wage the campaign on my own."
"The hell with that!"
"No!" Liam's nails dug into Jordan's arms. He held Jordan far more tightly than anyone of his size should have been capable of doing. "To battle against these forces would mean your death. They have toyed with others; they mean to destroy me. If they slaughtered you, I would have nothing left to fight for."
"Millennia of wine, men, and song, and I'm all you've got left?" Jordan joked with dark humor. "Not much when you come down to the fact, is it?"
"More than I had ever dreamed of, and far more than I am worthy of. Forgive me for what I must do."
"You keep apologizing. Stop."
"Yes, I do, but I cannot cease until I am forgiven. And I am too much the coward to explain myself. Now, hush. Time moves ever faster, and although I have no right, not any more, I must ask one thing of you before the sands run out in the hourglass. I need you. Your lips to kiss me, your hands to touch me, yourcock to fuck me. Please."
"Incubus food, huh?"
"I would be lying if I claimed I did not need or want an energy boost. However, I should wait. What do I matter? I am far more concerned with what might become of you if I do not survive--"
"Don't go there. Don't you even..."
"Jordan, this night may see the end of me. I have lived a long, long life and seen so many things, but none so pleasant to my eyes as you. If I do perish, I would have my last good memory be of you inside me that I may shuffle off this immortal coil with a smile on my lips."
Hope flared. "Key word there is 'immortal,' Liam. You can't die, can you? Ha! I friggin' love loopholes. Nothing to worry about--as such--if you can't kick off."
"Can I not? There is so much you do not understand." Liam raised his face to Jordan's. "No more questions now; no more talking. I offer myself to you. If you care for me at all, take me."
Jordan had nothing to say in response. Not anything useful, no speech for the troops. No words came to his lips, whether of love or humor or demands for Liam to watch his back, or--although the idea was tempting--an order for Liam to zap them out of there to someplace safe. Tahiti sounded good.
Didn't matter where they went, though. The Night Mare, the Lilim, all the other bastards--things he'd known were real but had never really thought about in the flesh--here and ready, with a thirst for blood. They could find Liam no matter where he ran, and bless his stubborn hide, he wouldn't run.
All the same, Jordan could still wish.
Liam stroked Jordan's biceps and murmured something in his own language, one Jordan knew had died thousands of years before he himself had been born. Not a problem. He didn't need to know the words to get the meaning.
"Yeah," he whispered. "Me, too."
Their lips met in a kiss, lingering and slow. Jordan memorized the texture of Liam's mouth, silky-soft and full-lipped, pressing against his with both the experience of countless ages and the need he swore was for Jordan alone. He relished the taste of his lover, salty from pretzels, bitter from coffee, slightly charred with cigarette smoke.
Jordan broke their kiss with a snort of laughter. "You taste like Cracker Jacks!"
"Do I? Then take me out to the ball game, as they say. I do believe I have found a good ball, two of them, a matching set." Liam cupped Jordan's groin through the thin-washed denim of his jeans, giving him a squeeze hard enough to make him grunt in pleasure, yet gentle enough not to hurt. He fingered Jordan's zipper, drawing the metal tab down with the slightest pressure, and pushed his way inside. "Yes, these are very fine."
"So long as you're not planning to pitch them." Jordan peeled Liam's form-fitting pants down his hips, exposing the incubus's cock. "Talk about baseball. I think I found the bat. That, or the special prize inside every box of Cracker Jacks."
"How about both? And why not enjoy your discovered treasure?"
"Rush, rush. You can't get enough of my body, can you?"
Jordan had been joking, but Liam took him seriously. "No. I cannot. Time goes so quickly now. Those who would attack me know I am weak from the energy expended on my Brothers. They have watched me for millennia, awaiting their chance, and now they will strike. We have no moments left to spare for foreplay. You must--"
"The Hell with no foreplay." Jordan tilted Liam, easing him down from his lap to the floor. He wished he had a pillow for his lover's curly head, but beggars couldn't be choosy. "Don't you get it? I'm anchoring you here. Salt and sage and holy water are simple magics, but they're working so far, right? I'm part of what's keeping the bad guys back, and as long as I'm standing guard, they can't launch their assault."
"Would you keep me safe forever? I must do this, Jordan. The war has been a long time coming, and I would not live with the threats any longer, forever looking over my shoulder."
"Keep you safe? Absolutely. I'm not going to stop you, though. You do what you have to do, and then you come back to me. We clear on that?"
"Quite so. Jordan?"
"Do shut up and kiss me."