| Another
Chance to get it Right |
"I’m sure that next year we will not have such a problem, Dylan." Telemachus stood in Dylan’s living room
"Probably not. Hopefully, we will get to meet again and talk. For the first time in 300 years I’m not so angry with the Rhade’s." Dylan smiled, walking over to the liquor cabinet. "Drink?" Pouring the drinks.
"Yes." Tel crossed the room and stood close to Dylan. "Tell me about Gaheris. I have some few of his journals, he talks about you. We have all of them, right up to the last mission. He didn’t understand some things about you. I do, if only because I have grown with them."
"Really? Such as?" Dylan handed Tel his drink.
"You and Sara. He understood the need to reproduce and the desire for a mate. What he didn’t understand was why you felt you had to break off your relationship with him. After all, he was no threat to you or Sara. He didn’t understand that humans try most often to limit themselves to one person, Humans don’t believe in an limitless heart." Tel drank his drink quickly and curled up in a chair.
"So you think I shouldn’t have broken up with him?" Dylan moved to stand next to him
"I don’t see why Humans are like that. If it had been I, then Sara and I would have had a talk and found a way to take the decision from your hands. Since your actions proved that you couldn’t handle it."
"So should I be glad or upset that Gaheris was less assertive, Telemachus?" Dylan leaned over and took the glass from Tel. Placing the glasses on a table, he traced one finger over Tel’s palm.
"I don’t know, but I’m glad he was less assertive. If had not been, he never would have betrayed you. You would never have been trapped on the event horizon. And I likely would not have been born. Self survival itself says to be glad." Standing up, he kissed Dylan softly, "And I most definitely am."
Hot mouth, blunt teeth, rough tongue. Dylan felt it all over his body. Rough hands holding him down. Spikes laying across his arms. The silk of his hair brushing against hot skin. Those hands holding him, keeping him down. He could feel the spikes prick his skin as he tried and tried to get closer. Arcing is body up, whispering cries of passion, his body wanting nothing but to press closer to Telemachus. His taste so much like Gaheris but different. A subtle difference.
Suddenly he felt Telemachus enter him. With a roar he pulled his hands free, making delicate scratches on his wrists, he wrapped his arms around Tel’s neck. Using his blunt teeth on Tel’s neck. He could feel Tel coming in him, then night fell.
Dylan crossed over to his desk. Standing there against a crystal stand is a broken Nietzschean spike. Picking it up, he walked it over the back of his fingers. A strong hand reached around and picked it up.
"It’s Rhade’s. It’s the only thing I had left of him. I mean... I have his quarters and his things but they are just things he collected, not of him. It broke off and I found it after I was brought off the event horizon." Dylan plucked it out of Telemachus’ hands.
"I see."
"Tel... I know you have to go back to Tarazed. I know you believe that in a year, they will change their minds, and we can start the Commonwealth again. I hope so. If they do, will you serve on the Andromeda?"
"I’m not Gaheris, I’m Telemachus. And I refuse to simply be a bedwarmer."
"I know. I can’t offer you first officer, it’s taken. But what about head of the battle wing? Or the lancers?"
"I’d like that." Tel turned Dylan around and
kisses him deep. "I do have to go but I don’t have to go right
now." Pulling Dylan with him, he headed back to bed.