I packed my bags efficiently. It never took long – I’d been packing bags to leave places and people for forty years and practice in this, like most things, brings, if not perfection, a certain skill that enables one to come close enough to perfection that the difference is nominal. I wanted to be gone, away from these O’Keefes before one of them came to stop me, or before enough time passed without interruption that I was forced to face the fact that the one I wanted to stop me wasn’t going to come.

I had to think that Angel O’Keefe, the most inappropriately named vixen who ever walked Lilith’s path, had to be enjoying the mischief she was causing, wherever she was spending eternity. The ironic thing was, the time I spent with her came on the heels of one of the most romantic, magical times in my life. Almost on cue, I heard from somewhere else in the townhouse, the faint sound of someone, probably Danny, playing a song on the piano. A song I hadn’t heard in years. I paused in my packing to listen.

I never knew the charm of spring
I never met it face to face
I never knew my heart could sing
I never missed a warm embrace

Till April in Paris, chestnuts in blossom
Holiday tables under the trees
April in Paris, this is a feeling
That no one can ever reprise

I sat down on the edge of the bed, my packing forgotten as the words to the old song washed over me. The years fell away, and I was taken back...nine years...to an April night in Paris, when I was, if not young, then younger, and very much in love.

(April, 2000, Paris, France)

Edward tossed the newspapers down. “Did you see these reviews? Every one of them! Glowing over that Frenchman! As though he’d be anything without Danny! Yet Danny is barely mentioned in most of the papers! It’s a travesty.”

I looked over calmly from the dresser, where I’d been neatly unpacking my clothes. Edward was needed to address some business problems in London so he was leaving me to find out what I could about Danny O’Keefe’s latest endeavor – a touring production of Les Miserables in France, which, from what we could tell, was a smashing success. Edward’s machinations had chased the poor boy from the States last year, but Danny’s lover and champion, “that Frenchman” as Edward insisted upon calling Etienne Lanier, had made an end run around Edward and taken what remained of the cast and crew after Edward gutted it and gone to his homeland.

Once in France, Lanier had easily found new backers and he replaced the cast members who’d fallen under Edward’s spell. He ended up mounting a new production that was even better than the one they’d had in the States, which had been quite good indeed. Moreover, instead of breaking the pair up, which had been Edward’s prime objective, I suspected that overcoming the obstacles had been the main thing keeping them together.

I turned my attention to soothing Edward’s temper enough to get him out the door and into the limousine that would take him to the airport. I was eager to have him on his way to London – and out of my hair. I walked over to his chair and pulled him to his feet. He looked at me, startled, then smiled. I was dismayed to see that it was his predatory smile, but I kept my expression blank.

“I forget how very strong you are, George...all those muscles that you keep hidden under your concealing clothes...you’re really still a very attractive man, aren’t you?” He ran his hand down my chest, bringing it back up beneath the fabric of the thin sweater to run his fingers along my stomach and pectorals in a caressing way. His thumb and forefinger settled on a nipple and teased it to hardness. The whole while, Edward’s pale blue eyes watched my face for a reaction. Not getting one, he pulled my unresisting body close and kissed me roughly, his tongue almost gagging me as his fingers tightened painfully on my nipple. I forced my mind to go blank, to think of gray rock leading to gray sky...nothing at all to give pain or pleasure. After a few minutes of this, Edward shoved me away forcefully.

I stumbled backward, maximizing my awkwardness as I fell back onto the bed; Edward should get some satisfaction I thought mischievously, and my performance in his arms certainly didn’t give him any. So let him think he overpowered me, so long as he didn’t try following it up, cautioned that voice that was rarely silent in my head. The last thing I needed was Edward forcing himself on me, and indeed, he was giving my sprawled body a speculative look. Memo to self, get baggier clothes.

“You are in danger of missing your flight,” I pointed out, seemingly having no other stake in the proceedings than whether Edward made it to London in time. He walked closer and leaned above.

“You could kill me quite easily, with your bare hands, couldn’t you, dear boy?” He looked quite pensive as he stared down at me, flat on my back, legs hanging off the side of the bed.

“You know I wouldn’t hurt you, Edward,” I replied, edging my ass away from the edge and propping my heels against the side of the bed for leverage – just in case.

Once again, I forced myself to submit as Edward caressed my cheek with his hand.

“We were so close, once...I know that we were. I wonder what happened? You are like a stranger now instead of my dear little cousin Peter, and I...? I treat you badly as George. I see myself doing it...but I don’t stop.”

I remained very still. I’d never heard Edward express this degree of – what could I call it? Introspection? Remorse? He seemed to be genuinely lost as he said, “I wish it weren’t like this Peter, but I don’t know how to stop it.”

I dared to suggest, “We could go home, just the two of us, and relax. Let your team of experts handle business for a time.”

He looked at me sharply. “They do handle it – for the most part. But they don’t handle all my business interests, as you well know. Some require a personal touch...like young Silver’s career.” He smiled, amused. The boy Steven Frame was a gifted young singer, the latest of Edward’s “angels” and the most troubled. One of the reasons I’d been glad we’d taken this trip was because it removed Edward from the boy’s life for a while, however brief. I didn’t realize Edward was planning on stalking Danny O’Keefe, his original and most treasured angel – the one who got away.

The one I was sworn to protect, no matter the cost, although Edward was blissfully unaware of what he would no doubt consider to be my treachery. I remained quiet now, in the face of his mild rebuke, and after another moment, he sighed and moved away.

“I wish I knew what you wanted, George. I know this is a tedious existence for you – but it could be more. You don’t have to demean yourself like this, dressing in those unattractive clothes that hide your gorgeous body, which is easily as beautiful as that of any of the young men who flock to my bed.”

I raised my eyebrow and he had the grace to redden slightly. “Well, you can’t blame a man for looking, can you? We share a penthouse and....”

“And I suspect that some of my mirrors are one way...I shall be ordering replacements, you understand,” I told him sternly, enjoying his embarrassed chagrin. In truth, I’d long known he spied on me. I’d served in Her Majesty's Special Forces for several years before my rather hurried departure from military life. From the moment they were installed, I knew where every bug and surveillance device was located in my living quarters. Having them removed just meant I would have to go through the exercise of finding the new ones.

I got up from the bed. “Edward, you really do need to leave. I thank you for the compliments but I dress for comfort. I no longer look for romance – or sexual conquests. When I want a partner, I find one among your cast-offs. There are always plenty of those haunting the streets outside our flat in New York.”

That amused him and he finally left, in a good mood too. As I closed the door behind him and locked it, I wasn’t surprised to hear the small click of the French doors behind me. Someone had entered.

Not all that surprising, except that we were on the fifth floor. “You’re being rather brazen, what if he comes back for...a book?”

“I strongly doubt the man knows how to read. Stop making him out to be more than he really is,” a voice behind me scoffed, his tenor voice with its faint Irish lilt amused.

I started to turn around but that quickly, he’d crossed the room and had me pinned to his chest with arms that were almost impossible to break free from. Almost. For the moment, I relaxed back into that embrace, enjoying his strength, his warmth, the simple fact of his being there. Then, with a slight smile, I broke his hold and smoothly tossed him over my shoulder and onto the bed. The shock on his face was priceless as I quickly straddled him.

“Your problem,” I told him, as I bent over and licked behind his ear, a particular weak spot of his, “is that you assume too much as a result of your size. You take it for granted that no one will be able to throw you.”

Deep green eyes twinkled up at me. “Ye are the one assuming, is what I’m thinking. I’ve got ye just where I want ye.” Those mile long legs of Luke’s wrapped around my waist and pressed me closer, close enough for our groins to rub together through our pants. My breath quickened, and I’m sure my heart rate did too. I moved my mouth to his and took the kiss he was offering so temptingly.

Ah, to call what Edward did to me and what Luke and I shared both kisses was an insult to the intimate closeness that bringing our mouths together achieved. Almost as much as when we joined bodies, the act of kissing Luke was a renewing of our...whatever it was that we shared. I have fucked many men, but there were only a very few that I’ve kissed on the mouth, and fewer still that I’ve willingly kissed in that manner. Many, many years ago, as a boy, I fell in love and explored that love with all the enthusiasm of my teenaged body. At twice that age, I fell in love for real, with a young Irish-American giant of a man, and now, after ten years, I cherished every chance we had to be together and simply, kiss.

His long slender fingers framed my face and he rolled us over, not breaking the connection between our mouths as our tongues continued to stroke and caress, delving into the recess both familiar and strange, making sure that all was well, with our passion, our chemistry, and even, Luke once laughingly accused, his molars. He wasn’t far off. One of the first things I always did when I had the opportunity to be with Luke again was take inventory of all the new injuries, the scars that weren’t present the last time I’d seen him, any deepening shadows in his beautiful green eyes.

But first, our passions needed release. I’d locked the door and pocketed Edward’s key card when he left so if by some chance he found the need to return, he’d find it missing and have to knock. It always paid to be cautious and to expect the unexpected, I’d found. It enabled me to be comfortable in reaching down and unsnapping the fly on Luke’s dark gray slacks – no uniform tonight, I noticed approvingly. It made him less conspicuous. And he looked handsome as hell in civilian clothes.

“I want you,” I told him, my voice husky, as I slid the zipper down on his slacks and eased the sides apart. That boyish smile of his pulled on my heart more than he’d ever know, although in this instance, it was impish, waiting for my discovery that my commando lover was indeed commando on this occasion.

“You’re incorrigible,” I told him, my tone severe, even as I grasped his hard cock firmly and gave it a pull designed to wring a gasp from him. He moaned low and long, rolling again to bring me on top.

“Why incorrigible?” he asked as he wriggled to free himself from his pants, continuing to rain kisses on me the whole time while I kept stroking him, encouraged by the sounds of pleasure he kept making. Luke is a noisy lover. I should get up and turn on the stereo, I thought, but I was too busy admiring the taut ass that came into view when his pants came off. He started pulling off my sweater before moving to his own dress shirt and tie.

“You get up and finish stripping for me,” I ordered finally, deciding that this pace was too slow, pleasurable as it was. Luke’s hard cock peeked out from under his shirt, which was still partially buttoned and he still had socks and cufflinks on, not to mention that tie. My eyes fell on it and something of my thoughts must have shown on my face as he grinned and shook his finger at me.

“No, you’re not tying me up with me own tie, you devious Brit. I need to wear this kit again later in the week and last time I had to borrow a tie from Red, he insisted on knowing what happened to mine, and when he saw the condition it was in, he knew at once and laughed at me for a month.”

I smiled. “And it wasn’t worth it?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow in mock dismay.

He groaned and tossed the tie at me. “Do your worst to me.”

He fell back upon the bed, six foot nine of male perfection. His cock was standing straight up, it was so hard, and his cock was a thing of beauty that made my mouth water just to gaze upon it. Uncut, I was sure it had to be eleven inches at least, and I was not a man given to exaggeration. Plus, it had a nice girth to it, not one of your long skinny cocks, not at all.

Now that our preliminary kissing was done, we could get down to the serious business of love-making. And I had a huge cock to satisfy – as well as my own more average sized one to put to good use. I took one of my ties and secured Luke’s hands to the headboard, brushing our cocks together as I leaned above him.

“Can’t you just fuck me and leave the fancy stuff for the second go-round?” he asked plaintively.

“I am leaving the fancy stuff for seconds,” I assured him, winking at him. He swallowed. I loved playing with Luke – he was like a gay man’s playground and the fact that he was all mine made him all the more thrilling. I knew he made love to women when we were apart, but he’d made it clear to me years ago that once he found me, all of his exploration with other men had stopped. I wished I could give him the same gift – I came closer all the time – but my life wasn’t my own and to suddenly develop what appeared to be a monastic lifestyle would raise questions I wasn’t prepared to answer. I regretted the deception and the other men, though, every time I had to put on a condom.

“You know you’re the only one I lo...” I found I couldn’t continue as Luke bent up, despite his arms holding him tight to the bed, and managed to capture my mouth in a searing kiss.

“No need for apologies or explanations,” he said fiercely once the kiss ended, leaving me breathless. “I love you and I’m damn sure you love me or I wouldn’t be naked, tied to a bed in your suite of rooms, would I now? Rooms you share with that bastard cousin of yours, I might add. So fuck my brains out, English, and then let’s go walk around Paris together and pretend the world is a different place, and I’ll steal kisses from you when no one’s looking, like I understand lovers do in Paris in April.”

Enchanted April indeed. I was overwhelmed by my Irish boy speaking so...so openly of the love we tended not to name...in concession to the disapproving world. I kissed my way down his long chest, tonguing the rippled muscles, caressing the familiar scars and memorizing the new ones. Tying him was an inspired decision. It enabled me to set a slow, sensual build-up, when otherwise he would have used his superior strength to pin me down and rut against me once his excitement built to the point that he felt he needed release. I swallowed his first orgasm, taking him deep into my throat and milking every drop from him as I stroked his prostate with my lubed fingers. I’d added a second tie to gag him, for fear of his yells of pleasure bringing the security staff of the Hotel to the suite, but I talked to him the whole time, in French, praising his beauty, his cock, his strength...even though I knew Luke to be fluent in French there is something freeing about talking in another language. You feel emboldened to say things you wouldn’t normally speak, at least not in the cold prosaic language of my birth. Perhaps Gaelic was more a language of love?

I didn’t normally bottom but tonight, after having had Edward’s grasping hands on me, I wanted Luke to take me, to surround me with his large protective body. Without a word, hoping I wouldn’t need any, I crawled up his body, my body lying atop his, my hard length pressing against his stomach, as I concentrated on kissing his nipples, my hands roving over his arms, his shoulders, finally untying his wrists as I felt him hardening again. He brought his arms down and around me, cradling me as he leaned above me, his weight propped on one elbow and hip, his eyes searching mine.

“I saw him standing near you before he left. He did more than kiss you, didn’t he?” The words were soft, but the eyes were stormy now.

“Please, let’s not talk about him, unless you feel you must, but....” I looked up at him, finding it hard, as always, to simply ask for what I needed. Thankfully, I didn’t have to; Luke took a deep breath, then smiled at me. “How about I go next? Instead of just lying here and letting you do all the work?”

Without waiting for an answer, he bent and kissed me lightly, a teasing promise of a kiss. Then he rolled me over and surprised me by not immediately pulling me to my knees for a good fuck. No, instead, Luke made sweet love to me. He started massaging my shoulders and didn’t move on until all of the tension and kinks were gone, every so often a hand would stray down to caress my buttocks, slipping inside the crease to tease at my hole or between my legs to stroke my bollocks, but more as a way to reassure, no lads, you’re not forgotten, than as any indication he was in a hurry to move on. Of course, he’d already come liters, and my cock was aching, but the feeling of his strong hands on me was so good, I didn’t say a word to hurry him. I said a good many words to praise him, or grunted, at least, but I was not eager for any part of this to end.

When he spread my cheeks and touched his tongue to my anus, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. I’ve rimmed Luke as often as I got the chance, and other men have rimmed me over the years, but I had no doubt at all that this was the first time Luke had done such a thing to anyone, male or female. And the lad took to it like a natural, much to my delight. I squirmed in pleasure and found his strong hands holding my hips firmly in place.

“Don’t want you coming on me too soon,” his amused voice remarked. “I need more practice at this, and as I seem to recall, not that I’ve done this next part all too often, but this is a bloody wonderful way to get a man ready for the next part...and we don’t want you complaining about my technique now, do we, Peter love?”

Peter. I hadn’t been Peter in ten years and to hear my name on my lover’s lips as he gave me the most intimate of kisses was enough to make me cry. I bit my lip but still felt the dampness at my eyes. With that intuition of his, Luke stopped what he was doing and was sitting against the headboard within the next moment, holding me against his chest, my legs on either side of his waist.

“Tsh, Peter, 'tis time for this farce to end, I’m thinking. You’ve done enough. You’ve asked too much of yourself. I’ve asked too much of you. And you don’t owe that bastard any more years of your life. When you’re overwhelmed by a simple thing like being called by your given name, which he refuses to use, it’s got to be over.” His hands were soothing on my back and I wished I could just lie there and be weak. But, I wasn’t weak. Never had been and wasn’t going to start.

“What is this? I want to let you take a turn topping and you think I’ve turned into some kind of quitter?” I made myself look at him as though affronted. “If that’s what you think of bottoming, I’m surprised you....” I could see from his expression he wasn’t falling for it and I didn’t want to shame our lovemaking by going any further so I stopped even before he said anything.

“I’m glad you’re not finishing such a stupid thing,” he said mildly. “I’m going to make love to you, but I’m not going to do it when the man I love is fighting tears. We’ve got to talk, Peter. And talk with you being yourself, not a bad imitation of Red.”

He smiled at me then and I had to smile back. I leaned my head against his chest again, enjoying the wiry feel of his chest hair. My chest was smooth, which seemed to fascinate him as did the fact that I still only shaved about twice a week. My natural hair color, an ash blond, simply didn’t show enough to warrant the trouble of shaving. I sighed, enjoying the feeling of being in my lover’s arms.

“May we talk after making love?” I asked, my hand dropping down to stroke Luke’s cock once again. He huffed a sheepish laugh.

“You do that and I think we’ll have to, no matter what my good intentions might be...God, you feel so good in my arms, you know that? I hate being away from you so much. I wish, damn, I wish you could join up with this new group that Red and I are joining. But that will keep for later too. I am going to come inside you and make love to you until you can’t think of anyone but me.”

He prepared me so carefully, I thought I would scream, but then, when I felt that large, thick cock pushing into me, I thought maybe a few more hours of prep wouldn’t go amiss. He was so fucking big. And he picked up my legs so easily, my weight like nothing to him as he adjusted my body’s angle until it was just right, just the right position for his thrusts, and each one slid his large, thick cock over my prostate, filling me up, leaving me room for no one, no thing, all I was, was him, and he completed me, our bodies truly moving as one to the point that I felt as though I had exploded and become some new entity – Luke and Linton – Lukton. I laughed with the joy of being, and Luke’s laughter joined with mine.

Tomorrow would be time enough to deal with the problem of Edward and his continued obsession with Luke’s brother Danny, the problem of Edward’s continued descent into madness, which I feared I could no longer control. Tomorrow I needed to discuss Angel with Luke also, and her uncontrolled drug dependency, which I’d been hiding from Danny so that he would make this break away and enjoy his time in Europe. He deserved it.

A snippet of song came in through the window, which Luke had gotten up and opened, letting in some glorious spring air.

 

I never knew the charm of spring
I never met it face to face
I never new my heart could sing
I never missed a warm embrace

Till April in Paris
Whom can I run to
What have you done to my heart?

For now, though, I deserved some time. It was April in Paris and I was alone with the man I loved. I pushed the problems aside and determined to enjoy myself


 

*************************************************************

(Pittsburgh, 2008, Boxing Day, POV/Peter)

I stared at the rolled socks in my hand as the music died away.

“That always was one of your favorite songs,” the beloved tenor voice commented, the brogue still present, though less noticeable than it once was. I looked up. Luke’s face was shadowed.

“You’re packing already?” The question was obvious, and he flushed as I simply raised an eyebrow in reply, as though to say, you can do better. I felt bad. He was trying, after all, and this type of thing wasn’t easy for Luke. Storming off in a temper tantrum, that was what came easily to him.

“Who was playing piano? It is not a song one expects to hear the day after Christmas.”

He looked surprised. “I thought you were playing a CD or something. No one was playing piano. At least, not that I saw. I walked past the music room and it was empty. The music seemed to be coming from up here.”

Odd. I distinctly heard it coming from downstairs. Where Luke was. I thought I heard the distant sound of laughter – feminine laughter. Angel laughed like that. I rubbed my face. It had been a rough month.

“Luke....”

“Peter...”

We stopped and looked at each other.

“I’m sorry for blowing up...It was stupid of me,” Luke said, his face pale beneath his permanent tan. “Would you give me the time to listen...and would you tell me what happened? I won’t blow up again.”

I looked at him tiredly. “I’ve given you most of the past twenty years, Luke, one way or another, I feel like you should have given me the time, the time to listen before judging.”

He looked as though I’d slapped him. Maybe I had. But, my only excuse was, I was hurt. Luke and his family were my reason for going on and if I lost them...what purpose did I have?

Maybe none. I looked out the window, wishing it were spring. Red came to the doorway. Should have expected that, I thought dryly. Where Luke was, Red soon followed.

“Good, you’re packed, or near enough. Just got a call. Gaza is a mess and we’re needed there. The Alliance is a mess and we need to get it put back together. Our assignments will be radioed in while we’re in the air, but I think English is going to be in charge once he says the word, at least of European activities. Luke isn’t cleared for hard labor unless English says so. Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go...we were supposed to have left the ground ten minutes ago.”

I went on auto-pilot, finishing up my packing and double-checking my emergency pack as Red hustled Luke along. Red paused for one second to ask me, “Are you going to be okay?”

I gave him a cool look back.

“Of course.” He frowned. “Fuck, that’s about as comforting as....”

“Give me your colorful metaphor on the plane, let’s get going,” I cut him off. But I patted him on the back as I pushed past him to dash down the stairs, two at a time. I wanted to leave a note for Danny before we departed but it didn’t look like that would be possible.

Except – there he was. Standing by the car, holding...my daughter. His daughter. I swallowed hard and looked him in the eye.

“We’re heading to the Gaza Strip right now for work, Danny. I don’t think this is a good time to....”

“It is the perfect time, Peter. Briana, this is my good friend Peter. He’s saved my life many times. He was a good friend to your mommy too. We both loved him very much and he loves you very much, he used to help Uncle Danny with you when you were a little girl, but you were too little to remember. Later I’ll sing to you some of the songs he used to sing to you. I want you to meet him because he’s an important part of your past and I hope he’ll be an important part of our lives going forward.”

I could sense Luke holding back, standing behind Red. He couldn’t risk being seen by the child, who might mention him to others. Danny was putting this child in my arms, this child whom I hadn’t ever held before while knowing that she was flesh of my flesh. Her soft arms wrapped around my neck and she squeezed tight, very much in the manner of her mother, even if her husky little voice was more reminiscent of her uncle.

“I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Peter. You’re pretty, with pretty eyes,” she smiled up at me from beneath her lashes, her head tilted as she considered my face. A finger came out and traced my chin but she didn’t say a word although I was holding my breath. She leaned forward and kissed me.

“Be safe, and save your life too,” she said, in her odd fey way. I was startled, but I managed to kiss her cheek and thank her for her advice. Then Danny leaned forward and kissed my cheek also.

“Please be safe, like she said. We’ll work it all out, I promise. We love you and so does the big guy.”

He moved away then and handed Briana off to Brian, who distracted her with teasing while I got into the car and Danny said good-bye to Red and Luke.

The three of us were quiet as Luke drove to the airport, where Red flew us to the chaos that awaited us in Gaza. As I did my best to survive Hell, and saw sights that tore at my heart, especially the children, I clung to the hope that somehow, some way, I’d survive, until April in Paris again.