Summary:  C/P, A/K ;  KT's CPSG "Halloween" challenge.  Part Ten:  Commitments, continued.
Author's Note: In choosing Tom's animal guide, I followed the 'canon' of CP, for the most part. Nothing else fits Tom as well. Any twists on the theme, apparent in this part or in later parts, are mine. ;-)
Copyright November 2001 Cassatt

The three moons over Umbra shone brightly in their formation. In the previous century, the citizens had gazed upon the sight with unease. The significance of the event was well known, and the discovery of the next Chosen One, though something to revel in, had it's darker side as well.

In this century, there were only two Umbran's who marked the occasion. There were six others who sat in their homes, occasionally looking out their windows to see if the apex had been reached. But only out of curiosity. The two, in a large, abandoned building near the outskirts of the city, studied their cube intently as the moons continued to rise.

On the floors above them, two alien visitors to their planet were locked together, lost to their own reality. Two more slept. And yet two more, the most important two, appeared to be doing nothing but sitting on top of their bed, their eyes closed, strange implements scattered in front of them.

Tom's first perception was that he felt relaxed and apprehensive at the same time. The sense of peace and rightness astonished him. He'd never known anything like this, although making love with Chakotay came close. But he knew that if his animal guide was going to make an appearance, it would be the first animal he saw, so he was almost afraid to do anything but face directly forward and wait. It was as he really began to look at his surroundings that he also felt Chakotay's hand in his and he risked a glance to his left.

"Hi." Deep, dark eyes captured his.

Tom chuckled. "Hi," he said. "I'm waiting."

"I know." Chakotay smiled, showing both of his considerable dimples to their fullest.

Tom looked away again, trying to stay focused. He heard some noises in the underbrush of the forest in front of them, what he assumed were animal noises. His hand was squeezed, and his heart skipped. But all he could see as he peered into the trees were yellow eyes in a dark face.

"She's mine, Tom," Chakotay said softly.

That sent his heart into full beating mode. The animal's eyes didn't waver from his. Just as he was about to ask his lover what it was, he was distracted by a flash of movement above the woods. A large, sandy colored bird swooped toward them, landing gracefully on the grass a meter from Tom's knees. Tucking it's wings, it turned it's head enough to fix a dark gaze directly on him. He would be hard pressed to describe the sensations that moved through. Serenity? Closure? Definitely curiosity.

"Your species calls me falco mexicanus," Tom heard in his mind.

"Chakotay...," he called quietly, "he's talking to me..."

But Chakotay didn't answer him, so he turned his head to the man. He was staring so intently at the bird, Tom thought it should start squirming, but it merely shifted slightly on its talons and returned Chakotay's stare. Now his lover looked stunned. Tom was confused.

"Chak?"

He took a very deep breath. "It's okay, Tom. This is your guide."

They were interrupted by noises coming from the edge of the forest. A gray wolf followed by a man entered the clearing and joined the bird. Tom didn't know who to look at first, his sense of peace was being sorely tested by the experience he'd been imagining all day. A wolf. Of course, how appropriate for the big guy. But this must be him. Will he like me? He tried to breathe. The bird walked to the side of the wolf, who was lying on the grass, and settled himself there.

"Tom?" Chakotay said. Turning, he latched onto his lover's eyes like a lifeline. Chakotay smiled the smile that he knew was meant for him alone and Tom relaxed again. "This is my father, Kolopak."

Tom knew how to handle introductions, learning at the knee of the Admiral as he had. He held out his hand. "Hello, sir. I'm pleased to meet you," he said formally. He let himself really look at the older man for the first time. Seeing the tattoo, his throat closed, for reasons he was not at all sure of. He saw Chakotay's eyes in a face surrounded by longish, thick gray hair.

Kolopak took his hand in a warm, gentle shake. He smiled and Chakotay's dimples appeared. "Hello, Tom. I am very, very pleased to meet you, too. You hold my son's heart."

Now it was Tom's turn to be tongue-tied. This level of directness he hadn't expected.

Chakotay sighed to himself in slight resignation. "Father," he said, seeing the twinkle in his father's eye.

"Yes, Son?"

But what could he say? Give the man a break, would you? "We're here for a reason, as you know."

"I do know, but we have some minutes before then. And I believe that our earlier assessment was right. He is beautiful, and strong. A good man. A right match. You have chosen wisely." Kolopak grinned outright.

Chakotay sighed out loud this time. "Father."

Kolopak laughed. "I apologize, Chakotay. Yes, we both know. The choosing is done elsewhere, is it not?" He said seriously, "But I believe you have realized something significant? About the soaring one? Something to share with Tom?"

He did, but he was still fearful that Tom wouldn't be able to hear it. That he wouldn't comprehend the totality of it, or maybe that he would.

"Trust, Son. He is, after all, the man you will spend the remainder of your life loving."

He smiled, knowing once more that his father was never apart from him. "Yes, Father."

The bird flapped it's wings. The wolf turned her head and they stared at one another. Then they both looked at their charges.

"Tom, I've seen this bird before. Occasionally, during my meditations, it's flown overhead, or off in the distance."

"But... how can you be sure it's the same one?" Tom looked from Kolopak to his lover.

"I am." He shrugged. "I simply know it's the same one."

"I thought you weren't supposed to know anyone's animal guide, unless, well unless you came here to do what we're doing?"

Chakotay brought Tom's hand to his lap and clasped it in both of his. "I had no idea he was anyone's guide, I only knew there was something significant happening, since he kept appearing. Truth?"

"Always, Chak."

"He's been driving me crazy for years," Chakotay said with a small grin.

Tom grinned broadly. "I'm sure he has. Remind me to thank him later."

Chakotay's dimples flashed. "Yes, well, the problem was, my guide would never answer questions about him."

"It was not the time," Kolopak interjected. "Perhaps now the right person can ask."

Tom turned his attention away from his lover. "He told me his name was... falco mexicanus," he said. "Is he a hawk?"

The older man smiled. "Falco means falcon. The falcon, a most fascinating species of bird of prey. Recalcitrant. And for some reason a bird that men of your planet, centuries before your birth, liked to try and tame. But," he said, raising his hand, "the falcon did not go quietly."

"So he is a bird of prey..." Tom looked at Chakotay. "That doesn't sound like a very calm animal guide..."

Chakotay squeezed Tom's hand. "What they did to keep themselves alive does not reflect on their spirit."

"Did you notice his wings, Tom?" Kolopak asked.

"No, sir, I'm afraid I didn't."

"Their tips are pointed. The falcon, though it soars briefly, and beautifully," he smiled, "is built for speed. It is an excellent hunter, and can fly faster than any other bird of prey. Does that seem appropriate for you?"

Tom smiled fully. "How did you know?" He blushed. "Never mind, you don't need to answer that, sir."

"I am falco mexicanus," the bird stated aloud.

"A most trusted ally," the wolf said.

"Truly," Kolopak agreed. "And in terms of a guide, the falcon is considered a messenger by the ancients of my people. Those that are blessed with birds of prey are those that can see the overall picture, as well as the details."

Tom was quiet for a minute. "I'm not sure I understand how that applies to me, sir, but I'll think about it."

"Considering one's guide in all it's forms takes many years, Tom. And you don't need to call me sir. I am Kolopak. Your journey to this place makes us family. I know you understand that," he said, in that same quiet voice that his son owned.

"Yes, I do. May I ask you a question then?"

When Kolopak nodded, Tom looked to his lover. Their gazes locked briefly. Chakotay nodded, too, so Tom turned to the front again. "It appears that you don't have any problem with me... joining your family..."

Chakotay's father breathed deeply. "The Great Spirits' plan is not for me to judge. The only expectation I have is that you love my son, and he loves you, that you will protect him and stand by him until the end of your days. I know you have already saved his life, more than once. A father couldn't ask for more, could he?"

"Some do," Tom said.

Kolopak lifted his hands, then let them fall wearily. "And some fathers regret that more than you'll ever know."

Tom shook his head.

"You disagree."

"No disrespect intended. I just think that some don't even know they have anything to regret."

Kolopak sighed. "Ah, I see. Perhaps your father will surprise you when you meet again. He does miss you, Tom."

Tom's eyes clouded over. He bit his bottom lip in an effort to stem the tide. Chakotay rubbed the back of his hand and looked about to speak when the falcon opened it's wings and lifted itself to Tom's shoulder, startling him. The bird's head dipped near the man's ear and after a moment, a soft smile broke out on his face.

Chakotay spoke as Tom opened his mouth. "You don't have to tell us what he said."

"I don't mind, really. I've been reminded that the journey I'm on has no definite ending." He broke the eye lock he'd been holding and carefully studied the grass near his knee for a moment. "That's something I need to think about. And my new friend has a lot he wants to say to me. He tells me he's been waiting."

"A most trusted ally," the wolf repeated, aloud. The falcon left Tom's shoulder to return to her.

"I believe you both are in good hands," the older man said. He turned and smiled benevolently at the two animals, resting peacefully at his side.

Greg woke up to the sensation of a finger tracing circles on his chest. Opening his eyes and looking down, he saw silver moonlight shining on jet black hair, catching the subtle movement of each strand as Harry's head rose and fell with Greg's breathing. He couldn't resist. He brought his hand up and slipped it into the silky fringe. It was as soft as it looked, and he sighed, stroking it gently.

"You're awake," Harry said quietly. He didn't move, allowing Greg to continue.

"Apparently."

Harry rolled off and on to his side, taking Greg's hand with him. "I'm not usually one to say this, but I think we need to talk."

Greg rolled, too, bringing his hand back and propping himself up with it, facing the man he was seriously considering seducing. "Look, Harry, I'm sorry about earlier. It was rude to go running off like that. I've never done it before..."

Harry chuckled softly. "How should I take that?" He held up his hand quickly. "I'm kidding. Just kidding." Then he reached out and took Greg's hand. "What happened?"

He was incredibly touched by the gesture, and at the same time, the feel of a small portion of Harry's skin was distracting. If they'd been undressed like the night before it would almost be better, he thought. He amended that quickly. No, clothes needed to be on. For now.

"What happened, Greg?"

Shit. "It's hard to explain..."

"It's because of what you went through, earlier, in the hallway. The nothingness. Isn't it?"

"Damn, Har, how'd you get to be so perceptive," he said softly. Harry shrugged so adorably he knew he had only one choice. He'd tell him. Then he'd kiss him soundly.

"Do you see, Stygian? They have not moved from their positions and the moment is nearing." Medrich tapped the side of the cube softly, then rose from the table. He went to the cabinet that only he held the key for.

"But teacher, how do we know it is really happening?"

Pulling out what he needed, Medrich returned to his student with a heavily gilded box in his hands. He sat. "Because we have done everything that was required of us to make it happen. We have guarded the secret. We have cast the proper spells. Now? We can only trust the Link."

The sounds of someone approaching through the forest brought everyone's attention to the edge of the clearing. Chakotay felt Tom tense so he gave him a reassuring squeeze. Seeing who was walking toward them only slightly surprised him, he'd expected one but not the other for some reason.

The Umbran boy, holding his Grandfather's hand, came to them and sat next to Kolopak.

"Again, Chakotay, you are surprised to see your ancestor?" Kolopak said with no trace of a tease this time.

"Yes, I am. Hello, Grandfather." He didn't consider even introducing Tom, as the old man had the blank look he was all too used to.

"Hello, sir," Tom said. Chakotay could have kissed him.

The boy at his side spoke aloud for the first time. "He's happy to meet you."

"He speaks to you?" Chakotay said, his heart rate increasing at the possibilities his mind toyed with.

"His connection to the Spirits of the Sky and to our planet is twofold. His day of being is the same as the day I ceased. He begat your father, who begat you and sent you on your journey here. I can hear him." The boy's voice was slightly tinny, and high. Higher than Chakotay would have expected.

"So he knows who I am," Tom said, "and one of the reasons we're here?"

"He does. He," the boy cocked his head and closed his eyes for a moment. "He welcomes you to the tribe and wishes you well. I believe he has difficulty putting the words together in ways you could understand. But I know that you are the mate, that you are joined and thus can fulfill the rest of your destiny. With the Link."

Chakotay felt a weight lift off his heart. No matter what his Father had said in the last vision quest, he'd wondered what his Grandfather thought about Tom. He was more traditional than Kolopak, and Tom had absolutely no tribal blood. "Thank you, Grandfather," he said, reaching out to grasp the old man's hand. "Thank you."

Another moment's clarity appeared in the murky eyes. "Love, 'Otay, until the end."

"I will, I promise."

As quickly as the clarity appeared, it was gone again. He risked a look at Tom and their eyes locked intensely. Yes, Tom, all is just fine. A dazzling smile broke out across Tom's face and he returned it with passion.

"Now," Kolopak said seriously. "Time to get down to business."

"Time to know," the boy agreed.

"You know the basics of what happened."

"That doesn't tell me much," Harry said, playing with Greg's fingers between his. "You must have been frightened."

Greg took another deep breath. Greggie, just tell him, for shit's sake. "Actually, that word doesn't even begin to describe it. I don't know if you realize this about me, but I really like to be in control. I think sometimes I need it, but I'm not that sure. Self-analysis has never been my strong suit."

Harry smiled broadly. "Control, you? Gee, that I never would have guessed."

"Big surprise, huh. It's why I joined the Maquis. I had to do something and Starfleet was just giving us so much bullshit about everything. It's strange - the war was, well, almost the ultimate experience of loss of control, you know? We'd react as much as act. But I felt in control for the first time."

"And, so...," Harry said quietly.

"I'm getting there," he answered, grinning slightly. "You've probably guessed all that anyway, haven't you?"

"Pretty much."

"Yes. Well. Today, or yesterday, or whenever it was, was really the ultimate experience of loss of control. I couldn't do anything. Couldn't see anything. Couldn't find my way out." He shuddered, as a body memory overtook him. "I started to hallucinate. I didn't know how long I was there, didn't know when anyone would find me, if ever. I would have done anything to get out of there. It was worse than any torture I'd ever been prepared for. Much, much worse..."

"I'm sorry, Greg." Harry let go of his hand and touched his chest. Again, Greg wondered how he'd missed seeing what was right in front of him all these years. "If you want to tell me more, details of what it was like, I'll listen."

"Thanks, Harry. I don't know, maybe in a day or so, when it's not so, um, fresh."

Harry nodded. "So what happened when we were on the couch?"

Greg smiled at him. "I'm sure you can guess. You had me pinned down. I only knew I had to get the hell out from under. I could only see red. I panicked." There, he'd said it.

"And the protector isn't supposed to panic, is he?" Harry said softly.

"No," he said just as softly, "he's not."

"I have a question," Tom said. The boy nodded. "I mean, I understand what Chakotay's told me, and what you've told us, and you referred to him as the Link, but why would there be a prophecy that had me in it?"

"You are his mate. He must be mated," the boy said. "I do not question the prophecy."

"But you're the Chosen One."

The boy smiled. "Yes. You think I should know all. Many believe as you. I was not allowed to fulfill my destiny, thus I have only learned ... a bit."

Chakotay spoke up. "My assistance is required for you to make contact with Medrich but then I'm supposing it's not you who will deliver them, am I right?"

The boy looked at Kolopak. "You were correct, Father, your Son has learned well on this plane."

"He has," the older man answered.

The Chosen One looked back at Chakotay and Tom. "There is another One, who must be located and nurtured. Then and only then will this civilization survive intact."

The two men from Voyager looked at each other. Clearly reading what they were each thinking. They hadn't realized it was quite like that.

"Chak, I don't want to spend any more time in the brig," Tom whispered.

"Don't worry, we'll deal with any latent Prime Directive issues when this is over. We don't have a choice here. Okay?"

Tom sighed. "Okay. I trust you. I'm yours."

"And I'm yours, Tom."

Kolopak coughed, trying to catch their attention. "Time is shortening. You must understand the rest."

The Chosen One nodded. "Yes. It's about Medrich, and his pupil. They are practicing the Dark Arts. Bringing the forces that should remain dormant to work in their favor. Now."

"The Dark Arts?" Chakotay needed clarification.

"They're performing acts from the grimoire. On you. And your friends."

"Wait a minute," Tom said, "that word, I know that word, grimoire. Some of my ancestors were French. Peasants. They passed down superstitious stories. It's a spell book. They've been casting spells on us?"

"Not you, Tom. Everyone else. You must be careful. Chakotay, you must deliver me at the proper time, no matter what happens, the proper time is absolute. If it doesn't happen then, it won't," the boy's hands were beginning to move rapidly in the air.

Chakotay reached out and stopped him. "I will, I promise. Just tell me. When?"

"The prophecy states, 'With the star at midday's ascent, the deliverance of the Chosen One will bring the forces into proper alignment.' "

"We have only a few cycles, Stygian, we must make the final preparations." Medrich again went to the cabinet and pulled out three bottles.

Stygian was confused. "But teacher, the moons are at their apex now."

"That is only a part of the prophecy." Medrich turned another page and pointed. "This is when the Link will come to us."

His pupil studied the faded printing, the symbols and the words both. "The page is damaged."

"No word is missing that matters. The symbols prove that. See? 'With the star at the day's ascent, the deliverance of the Chosen One will bring the forces into proper alignment.'  So, we must prepare. Keep an eye on that cube."

Harry understood what he needed to do. "Greg, don't take this the wrong way, but you're not really the protector. You don't have to be strong, all of the time. I don't expect it."

Greg touched Harry's head with his free hand. He ran his fingers through his hair. It made Harry's breath catch and his mind wander. "Do you know what else I kept thinking while I was stuck there?"

He shook his head.

"I worried about you. Wondered if you were all right. If anyone would realize that you were gone, because I was fairly sure you'd wandered off somewhere."

"Yeah, I don't know what would have happened to me if Tom hadn't been there." He tried not to think about it too carefully.

"Well, I have another confession, Har. I was ... jealous."

Greg wouldn't meet Harry's eyes, and in the stark moonlight falling on them, he could see that this man's emotions were right on the surface. His heart began to thud against his ribs. Things were getting out of hand. Or were they? Reassure him, Harry, just do it. "You don't need to be. Honestly. Tom's just my best friend. You know that."

"Not an easy thing to compete with."

Shit. "No need to compete at all, Greg. I don't want... to kiss Tom." His heart was hammering now.

Greg moved closer, his hand returned to Harry's head, trailing down to the back of his neck, his fingers moving languidly over the skin there. Harry felt his cock twitch. Oh shit. Greg met his eyes now, and the silver light reflected in the dark brown. He got closer. And closer. Harry shut his eyes. The moment Greg's mouth covered his, he completely melted, and was gently rolled onto his back. His entire body was tingling as he wrapped his arms around Greg's wide, strong, shoulders, not minding in the least the weight pressing him into the mattress. They kissed slowly, their lips moving together sensuously, the pressure increasing gradually. He hardened. They hardened. Greg pried his lips open with his tongue. God in heaven...

"What about your friends?" Chakotay said. "Do they need to be in contact with Medrich as well?"

Tom looked at the man he was going to spend the rest of his life with, almost in awe at the way he was so calmly taking everything in. Nothing seemed to be fazing him. Yes, he was a remarkable First Officer and yes, they'd seen just about everything a human could fathom here in the DQ, but still. They were talking to the spirit of a boy, on a spiritual plane. As though they were all sitting in the park on a Saturday morning. He shook his head.

"My friends. We must talk about my friends. They are your friends, too," the Chosen One said with a smile.

"Yes, apparently they are."

"But there are things you must, you must know about them. Why they're here. It is such a long tale..." Again the boy was getting a bit worked up.

Tom thought he heard something very far off, amidst the trees. A voice. Suddenly, Chakotay was no longer holding his hand. He looked to him quickly. His heart stopped. He was gone.

"Janeway to Chakotay. Janeway to Chakotay! Janeway to Chakotay!"

Chakotay slapped his chest hard. Not now, damn it. "Chakotay here, Captain. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What the hell is going on down there? And don't put me off any longer."

"What do you mean?" He could hear that her patience had finally given out. Great.

"Why did you program the computer to wake you within an hour of this celestial event that only happens every 100 years? I'm sure it wasn't just to witness it. You have better things to do with your time right now than look at the moon."

"Moons, plural. And I'm sure you have better things to do than to check up on me. Why aren't you asleep?"

"Damn it, Chakotay, don't patronize me."

He sighed, hopefully quietly.

"Where is the Link?" the boy cried.

Kolopak took his hand and tried to reassure him. "My Son will return, do not worry. He understands what's at stake."

Tom's mind raced. "He must have been called by someone. He has other responsibilities. You can tell me what we need to know. I promise, I'll pass it along to him - I promise."

"You do not understand. The moment has almost passed. The conditions need to be right. They are not...," he said, his arms beginning to flail.

"Look, just tell me about your friends, the other children, it'll be okay. If it's important..." Tom was interrupted by the boy.

"I cannot," he said quietly. "Only to the Link." He was silent for a few moments. "It will be fine, it will not interfere with the deliverance," he spoke almost to himself. "It will be fine."

For some reason, Tom was not entirely comfortable with the body language he was seeing. Something wasn't right. Was not fine. Clearly, though, he had no power in the situation. But he did know one thing he'd meant to say to this non-corporeal being. "Chosen One?"

"Yes, Tom?"

"Thank you, for helping me with my friend, Harry. He was... he needed it."

"The grimoire excels in the areas of the spirit where darkness sleeps."

Tom had the urge to ask his falcon what in the world that meant.

"Tom?"

"Yes?"

"Tell your mate - I will see you both at the ascent of midday. In the Temple. I must go." And without another word or even waiting for an answer, the boy child jumped up and ran out of the clearing and into the woods.

Tom was left, facing Kolopak, his father, the wolf and his own animal guide.

"Time to wait," the falcon said.

Medrich and Stygian stared into the cube.

"What is he doing?!" Medrich said, slamming his hand down on the tabletop. The cube jiggled, then stopped.

"I think he had no choice, sir. The woman from the ship, he has to answer to her."

"It is absurd! She has nothing to say about his destiny! I knew she was going to be trouble."

Stygian glanced at the gilded hourglass. The last particle of sand dropped. "Teacher. The moment. It has passed."

They both stared into the cube. The Link was still talking to the air. His mate was still sitting next to him, eyes closed, perfectly still.

"If she has done anything to prevent what has been foretold, she will pay," Medrich said quietly. His knuckles were whiter than normal as his hands clenched.

"Kathryn. I have to go. Don't worry, everything is fine. You'll get a full report when the trade is finalized. I believe that will be in the early afternoon." His fingers were itching to tap his combadge.

"I'm not accusing you of lying to me, Chakotay, but I'm not entirely sure I believe you, either. Far be it from me to stand in the way of true love."

"Thank you. I'll tell Tom you said 'hi'." He tried to make it light, and hoped he succeeded. He'd told her his lover was waiting to rendezvous under the moonlight.

"Very well. I'll talk to you later. Janeway out."

The computer beeped the line closed. "Damn it," he said quickly. He dropped his hand onto the akoonah and tried to calm his ragged breathing.

Kolopak watched as his Son reappeared, the relief on Tom's face a visible reminder that the blond was not of their tribe, no matter what his coloring. Still, he had to hand it to the young man. He'd shown remarkable composure during what had to be a most unusual experience for him. He'd passed the unspoken test with flying colors. Smiling to himself, he decided he'd try and remember his private joke and share it, though his memory was sometimes an elusive thing to trust.

"He had to leave, Chak, he said the moment passed," Tom was saying, clearly not happy to deliver that piece of news.

Chakotay didn't look happy to receive it, either.

"Son," he said, "you will do what is right. You always do."

He dearly loved to see that look on his Son's face, for he hadn't been able to put it there very often when he'd been alive. Not since Chakotay was a small boy, wanting approval and congratulations with each new skill he learned. He hoped what he was going to say would bring it out on both men's faces.

He passed on the tribal blessing, in honor of their bonding. They spoke the promises he asked of them. Love. Constancy. Faith. In themselves and in each other.

The ceremony was slightly unorthodox, but necessary. For a joint vision quest needed to be blessed and he did the best he could given the circumstances. From the looks on both of their faces, Chakotay and Tom were more than pleased with it. After they left, he thanked the animals. The falcon took to the sky. The wolf bounded into the forest. He stood and helped his Father with a hand on his elbow.

"Come, Father. It's time to rest," he said, and led the man back home.

Chakotay finished rolling up his medicine bundle and quickly put it away. Tom, already naked to the waist, grabbed the bottom of his tunic, yanked it up, and they both got it off. After tossing it somewhere on the floor he managed to turn within Tom's moving hold, finding that mouth he was craving, like a starving man. Their kiss started out hard, and needy but as their taste fed that instantaneous hunger, it slowed and became deeply passionate, achingly sweet and even more thorough. They collapsed onto the pillows, still kissing, their hands trailing over hot and ready skin.

Breathing heavily, they broke the kisses and stared at each other once more, with moonlight streaming in through the lace curtains. No words were spoken this time. They knew what they'd done, the commitment they'd made, how much they loved each other. They shed the rest of their clothing as quickly as they could, pulled down the covers and came together, arms and legs and everything in between moving, stroking and giving intense pleasure.

In a room on the other side of the stairway, Greg and Harry were learning how each of them felt to the touch, the ridges and curves of their muscles, which areas were the most erogenous on which body. Their kisses were deep and just not lengthy enough, for as soon as Greg would move off of those sweet lips of Harry's and onto his neck, or chest, he'd make his way back up and their tongues would work together, mimicking their bodies, writhing together.

Harry really did think he could die right then and be in bliss forever. This was nothing like being with the women he'd had as lovers, as good as those experiences had been. And very definitely not like the mutual masturbation and kissing sessions he and his Academy friend had indulged in. He didn't even mind being on the bottom, in fact, he realized through the erotic haze, he liked it. He'd planned on staying in that position, to help Greg, but he felt something shift at some point. He didn't care what the hell the reasons were, he was there, he was going crazy with lust, he might even be falling in love. But...

Tearing his mouth away, he tried to catch his breath. "Greg, have to tell you something..."

Greg, having latched onto his neck, mumbled an assent.

"I've never..." Shit. What word? Greg raised his head and met his eyes. "I've never, actually, been with a man. Not really..." Shit, shit, shit, don't go.

Greg cocked his head slightly. "Been with, meaning, fucked? Or been fucked?"

"Both." He waited, his heart back to hammering, his throat threatening to close. Please.

But instead of jumping off of him in disgust, Greg's face softened almost imperceptibly. He was amazed that he could read it. Greg trailed fingers up his chest, to his face and stroked his cheek so tenderly, Harry's throat really did close.

"Well, Har, I'm honored. But, we won't be doing any penetrating until we get back on board. No lubricant when you're experienced is one thing. There's no way I'm going to do anything to hurt you, not for your first time. Assuming, that is, you'd like to try being a bottom?" Greg gently resumed his thrusting against Harry, and he almost swooned.

If he'd had any doubts about letting himself fall for this man, they were gone. "Yeah, Greg, I'd like that," he said, resuming his own thrusting. He thrilled to see the effect it had.

"Uh, good..." Greg kissed him deeply, then pulled back. "So... what would you like now?"

Don't move off me. "For tonight?" He struggled to put a sentence together, the haze was getting thicker. "Stay. On top. We both need it..." It was true. He needed to be covered, to feel safe, to let this man be in even a small semblance of control.

"Oh, Harry," Greg said softly, just before he kissed him, deeper this time, moving against him, with him, in a rhythm they were just learning. Harry sighed with happiness.

In a room on the first floor, two men were still locked together. But they were in hell, not heaven. They had no idea what to expect of their exile. They were almost beyond fear, beyond despair. Curled up in duplicate balls, staring at each other, they merely existed.

In a room below that, two Umbran men gathered supplies together. The older one possessed an air of determination, but beneath that, simmering anger was almost palpable. The younger one darted occasional glances at his teacher. After getting permission, he picked up the grimoire, running his hand across the surface in reverence. They left the building, heading for the Temple.
 
 

On to Part Eleven

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