THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB Lane Written by Lady Poetess egiggles at moose-mail.com /~bbp Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This story has no resemblance to anyone dead or alive. ONE Kim Carnes' Bette Davis' Eyes was blasting at full volume. Lane Carlson was moving along with the music as he drove his Land Rover down the road. It was a perfect summer day and the sun was warm on his bare torso. The breeze cooled him, and all in all, he was feeling invigorated for his summer break. He refused to let the fact that his usual summer buddies weren't available for fun this time around. Usually he and his buddies Ian Somerhalder and Jay Vockler would be in this together. They would spend a week enjoying the beach, the sun, and fuck as many guys as they could in a game to see who would be the best in the game of sex. This time, however, Jay had to spend the summer in a hospital awaiting the removal of his swollen appendix and Ian was spending the summer working as an intern for some anthropology guy at the university. It was a downer, that was for sure, because he would miss his friends. He was also unsure as to how to feel that most of his queer friends had settled down in long term relationships with other men. Actually, come to think of it, most of his straight friends were doing the same. How did that happen? They were all still young - he was only twenty-four - and he couldn't imagine settling down with one guy when there were so many men out there to be enjoyed. He frowned as he turned into a side road. As usual, he would be using Gale Harold's beachfront home for the summer. Gale's generosity could be due to the fact that Lane and his twin brother Kyle were Gale's favorite cousins. This time, however, instead of spending time there with his friends, he would be doing so with the dullest geek on earth, Charles David Reynolds. Charlie wore thick, ugly glasses, barely spoke above a murmur, and reminded Lane of those uncool geeks in high school since they were introduced a few weeks back. That guy was twenty-four too, but unlike Lane, who abandoned college for a brief stint in a rock band, Charlie graduated early and with some fancy high-class degree in some unpronounceable computer science field. There were rumors that Charlie worked for some hush-hush Silicon Valley company in some billion-dollar project, but Lane couldn't imagine dull Charlie doing something that classy. Most likely Charlie spent his days working on programming and answering tech support from rude technophobes like Lane. No, he wasn't looking forward to spending time with Charlie at all. The only reason he agreed to Gale's request to share the house with Charlie was that he hoped that Charlie would lock himself away in his room for the duration of the summer and never bothered Lane. There was Charlie. Lane groaned quietly. Charlie was wearing the baggiest, ugliest Aloha shirt Lane had ever seen and those baggy denim shorts should be banned if Lane would have his way. Who the hell wore glasses anymore when there were contacts to be used? "Hey, Charlie," he called, his voice friendly despite his reservations. He might be a bitch at times, but his parents raised him to be polite at all times. He opened the door for Charlie. "Ready for the beach?" Charlie rolled up his eyes. Nah, that was probably Lane imagining it - Charlie was always too nice for his own good. Lane grinned as Charlie gently placed his luggage bag at the back and climbed right in. "Take off your shirt, man," Lane suggested. "It's sunny and breezy here. Anyway, how's things?" "Fine," Charlie just said. He reached behind for his bag, and Lane suppressed his groan when Charlie pulled out a book. If Charlie wanted to ignore Lane, that was fine with the latter. He cast a sidelong glance at Charlie again. To his surprise, he realized that Charlie actually wasn't that bad looking. The man had dull light sandy colored hair and a face was that on the plain side, but there were those hints of dimples that could be attractive. Also, the man filled out his baggy sleeves pretty well - Charlie probably spent a few hours a week doing some exercise like running or swimming. He wasn't entirely built like Lane, but he wasn't too shabby either. And besides, intelligence was always sexy, and Charlie was definitely intelligent. He exuded it. If Lane was bored anytime in the future, he might as well seduce Charlie. It might do Charlie some good to loosen up and have fun with a hot stud like him. Somehow that thought sent a more intense thrill down his spine and right to the tip of his cock more than he anticipated. Yeah, he thought, looking sidelong at Charlie once more. He could do worse. He'd fuck Charlie. Actually, he was kinda looking forward to it. TWO Contrary to Lane or everyone's expectations, Charlie Reynolds was more efficient and capable than he looked. If he had his way, he wouldn't even be here. He would be back in Vienna working on his project. Ricky Martin and the rest of the gang could deal with this in his absence, he had no doubt, but it still didn't feel right that he should be the one to hide from Nicolas' men when the others were still in danger. He was the best, they said. Then he should be facing the threat like the rest of his team. They were equals: he had treated them on the same level as he even if he was the project leader. Noah, his boss, however, made it clear that only by finding the elusive Dr Coulson could he save his project and hopefully the others who were acting as a distraction to his absence. Birkoff, Noah's elusive boyfriend, had did some hacking and tracking and his latest email to Charlie (Birkoff never ventured outside his house if possible) suggested that Coulson was in hiding here for the summer. Coming here as Lane's vacationing partner would be the perfect cover. If it wasn't, well, he would take care of Lane like he took care of his men. He never failed them and he would never start now. Not like he failed Gerard who died when it should be Charlie who should die. He was twenty-four. He shouldn't be feeling this weary and old. Sometimes he regretted taking up the offer from Alias the moment he graduated from MIT. Working as a liaison between Noah Wyle's company - that had some of the best brains in the computer arena - and the shadow organization he worked for only eroded what little idealism he had left since he started out. And now he would be dragging Lane, a rather simple creature who only knew how to have fun, into this mess. Silently he vowed he would take care of this man. He had never lost anyone under his wing since Gerard. With Gerard's unnecessary demise, his heart had withered. Unlike some of his colleagues who just stopped caring after the loss of a loved one, the anguish only drove him to work harder to protect all under his care. If he couldn't save the world like he once wanted to, he would at least die trying to save those around him. Damn you Coulson, he silently cursed the object of his search. The man had better be found soon or his men in Vienna would be sitting ducks for the enemy. But he was also human, and right now, he could also sit back and enjoy the view Lane afforded. He pretended to be engrossed in his book, but he couldn't resist checking the hot stud beside him. Lane wasn't handsome - he was pretty, that was the difference. Lane's looks were easy on the eyes, but Charlie had no use for superficial looks. It was Lane's na‹ve cheerfulness, his blissful oblivion to the darker side of human nature that drew Charlie close. He envied Lane's joie de vivre and he also wanted to corrupt it out of spite. But that body! Charlie could spend his life touching and tasting that body that could put a Greek god to shame. Lane's body was perfectly chiseled in pure muscle, yet at the same time he managed to maintain his slim frame. No wonder he was a popular physical trainer - he was a walking advertisement for his skills. Those rosy wine-dark nipples stood out as luscious, tempting buds in the breeze, crowning glories of two perfectly formed pectorals. Charlie looked down, swallowing his surging libido even as his cock threatened to burst out of his shorts. Clad only in a pair of shorts that highlighted that very promising cock bulge that stretched the fabric to the point of bursting, Lane was a sight of carnal virility. The man's thighs were powerfully muscled, tempting Charlie with maddening images of those thighs tightening and relaxing fluidly as those taut high bubble butt cheeks clenched and eased with each powerful thrust of Lane's cock into Charlie's asshole.. Charlie bit back his groan. He tightened his thighs to ease his throbbing cock, only to find his hard cock leaking lust fluids onto the fabric of his own pair of shorts. "Are you okay?" Lane asked. "You look flushed." Charlie couldn't answer to that. He was trying hard not to reach out and hungrily feast on that man's mouth or push his hands down the waistband of those shorts. "Why don't you take off your shirt?" Lane suggested again. "It'll be cooler." Very well, Charlie unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off his shoulders, hoping that Lane wouldn't notice his tight and aching nipples. "Not bad." Lane whistled. "You could use a bit more definition." To Charlie's dismay, Lane reached out with one hand and pressed it against Charlie's abdomen. The man gave a playful clench, and Charlie instinctively tightened his stomach. His cock sprang free from the tight clasp of his thighs to tent up his shorts in an obscene bulge. Lane stared at it for a few seconds, then at Charlie's face (Charlie tried hard to look impassive), before grinning mischievously and pulling down Charlie's shorts. Charlie groaned in pleasure and relief when Lane's hand closed over his throbbing dick and began massaging the shaft slowly. Lane's thumb massaged the moist crown of that cock even as he rubbed that cock in slow upward and downward rhythm. Charlie felt his nuts boil, and he cried out a warning as he lost it. His hot fluids spurted forth onto his stomach and even his chin even as he convulsed in a hard climax, his moans lusty and harsh even to his own ears. It was then Lane stopped the Land Rover and kissed a startled Charlie in the mouth. THREE God, Charlie was unbelievably tight! Lane shouted out as unbelievable pleasure burned through all eight and the half inches length of his cock up his spine as he almost tore his foreskin trying to forge his way through the tight asshole of Charlie. He wasn't a stranger to people having problems accommodating his too- big dick, and he had learned since he fucked his first ass how to control his speed and depth so that both he and his partner could have a good time. But this was hard, especially when Charlie's lusty moans and wild buckling to take in as much as Lane as he could was beating away at Lane's control. Charlie probably hadn't been fucked in a long time, hell, that man was begging for Lane bad. His cock finally pushed through the tight entrance, and as the familiar warm, molten heat of Charlie's anus enveloped his burning cock crown, Lane felt a spurt of hot, scorching semen bursting out of his cock. He moaned as his juices lubricated that tight ass, adding to the liberal coating of Vaseline on his dick. When he had drained his balls in his orgasm, his come was pouring like hot molten honey out of Charlie's wet packed ass to flow over Lane's balls and down his thighs. Lane felt his cock sink deep right down to the hilt into Charlie, and he laughed weakly as his sweat dripped off his forehead and chin onto Charlie's back. He was still hard. He tightened his hold on Charlie's thighs, and began fucking that man in well-experienced strokes. He didn't care if they were rocking the Land Rover so hard that they might cause passing cops to stop and investigate, and he doubted from Charlie's begging him to fuck him harder that Charlie cared either. Charlie was coming hard again when Lane pulled out and turned Charlie around so that they can kiss while Lane fucked him missionary-style. Same story when Lane took him sideways, Charlie gripping the back of the seat as he raised one thigh high over and Lane fucked him from behind hard. Lane's balls boiled and even ached in protest as he gave one last thrust this bout to come in yet another hard scorch of ejaculate. Four times at one go, especially in a Land Rover, was too much. Give him a bed and he might go up for yet one more round, especially when Charlie was such a hot fuck. In fact, he was looking forward to reaching Gale's place soon and sinking his cock into that hole yet again. He laughed. "I can't believe I just fucked you, man," he said when he could speak to the bemused Charlie. "Charlie, oh man, Charlie, I never imagined," he murmured, reaching out to kiss Charlie again. Their sweaty bodies rubbed against each other as Charlie kissed him back in slow, languid ease. Lane drove like mad all the way to Gale's house that night. It was a surprise that he didn't kill the both of them, especially with Charlie's head bobbing up and down his cock all along the drive. This vacation was looking up after all, Lane thought happily. "Oh shit, this is ridiculous," Charlie said, laughing, as he shook his head at the one of the many photos scattered across the bed. Lane looked at the photo, grinning sheepishly. He had to admit his time at the Australian Mardi Gras might be a bit too much. The photo showed him on the stage getting his pants ripped off him - the result of an impromptu strip tease on stage fuelled by too much alcohol. There was also another photo of him grinning and posing wearing only his briefs around his ankles, surrounding by a bunch of partygoers happily groping at his erect cock. Oh yes, his summer holidays, they could get a bit too wild. He lay his hand over Charlie's butt cheek and kneaded playfully. "You can come with me next year," he offered. "We can have some wild times together." "I don't dare to imagine your idea of wild," Charlie said. He played with Lane's hair a little, but Lane found himself liking the man's touch on his hair surprisingly much that he was disappointed when Charlie finally rolled onto his back and just looked at him instead. "You're cute, you know that?" "Me, cute?" Lane gave a mock roar of annoyance and move over Charlie. "I've never been cute. I'm sexy." "How many guys do you sleep with in, say, one week?" Charlie asked. He let his right index finger toy with Lane's nipple. "Hmm, why?" Lane lifted his torso higher from his lying over Charlie so that Charlie can play with his body better. "I'm just curious. You're a very sexual man." Lane didn't understand what Charlie meant by that, but he decided to take that as a compliment. "Come on, don't be shy," Charlie prodded him gently. "Maybe three or four," Lane answered finally. "Does that include your clients?" "Hey, I don't fool around with my clients," Lane told him, slightly annoyed. "I'm a professional trainer. I like fucking, but I like other things too." "How old were you when you lost your virginity?" "Mind your own business," Lane told him. "Now can I kiss you?" "Only if you'll tell me about it." "Then I won't kiss you." "I'll throw in my hot ass if you tell." "Fourteen. We were skinny dipping, next thing I know he was sucking my dick and we ended up going at it," Lane answered. "Can I fuck you now?" Charlie laughed and opened his arms. Lane's look of annoyance morphed into an openly cheerful and lascivious leer as he moved back over Charlie. How did this man remain so untouched by life's bitter harvest, Charlie wondered, but all thoughts shattered when Lane took his mouth and he let the man take him away into a world where everything was still pleasurable, carefree, and abandoned. He clung on to Lane's powerfully muscled shoulders like a drowning man as he hooked his legs high up and over Lane's arms. Maybe he was. He was drowning, and Lane was the man who could save him. A truly disturbing notion, that. FOUR "Hey, how's my favorite cousin?" Gale was always a cheerful bastard, and Lane never failed to smile even at his cousin's voice. "Tell me you and Charlie are getting along well. Noah will never hire me to cater his company's events again if you have killed Charlie and buried him in the sand." "Even better, Gale, I'm fucking him." "Funny... shit, you're kidding right? Tell me you're kidding." Lane smiled as he tried to look around the beach for Charlie. He frowned. Where was Charlie? It annoyed him how Charlie often hid himself in his room or disappeared at strange times for mysterious reasons. At first he was insanely jealous at the possibility that Charlie might be seeing some beach dude behind Lane's back, but upon further thought, he couldn't see how Charlie could settle for someone when he had Lane. Lane wasn't a proud man, but he couldn't see why Charlie would want someone else when Lane was the best he would ever have when it comes to having a hot stud between his legs. "No I'm not. He's quite hot actually," Lane said. "And smart too. He taught me seven new words in just three days since we met. I can use the word 'platonic' now." "And I guess you fail the grasp the amusing irony of you finally learning how to use that word," Gale commented. As usual, comments like that flew over Lane's head. And as usual, he decided to take that as a compliment for his newfound eagerness to learn. "Hey, Galandriel - " "Don't call me by that name. I'll hang up, Lane." Lane chuckled and leaned against the phone booth. "I want to know more about Charlie." "Ooh, that sounds serious." "Come on, you don't want your favorite cousin to sleep with a stranger who may turn out to be a serial killer, do you?" "Wait, let me try to remember if that has ever stopped you before." Gale had a point there. Still, Lane didn't know why, but he really wanted to know Charlie better. He really enjoyed fucking Charlie and listening to that man talk in big, lovely words in that charming bitter cynicism of his. A look around this beach could show easily at least ten people who are hotter than Charlie, but Lane couldn't care about them any less. He liked Charlie. Actually, he liked Charlie better than anyone he had ever fucked before, so much that he actually considered keeping Charlie around after this week. Besides, as he'd convinced himself, how hard can a relationship be? He had to start sometime, might as well be now. If he wasn't sure of things, he could always look at how Gale or Ian or other people he knew work things out and learn a thing or two from them. "I really like Charlie," he told Gale simply. "Okay. But I don't really know Charlie. He's just someone I know through Noah. Noah told me that his good friend Charlie needed a vacation. I needed some edge over my rivals in bidding for his contract, so I offered him my beach house for Charlie to use. It's tacky, I know, but what's tacky when a three-year, half a million dollar contract is up for grabs, right?" Gale cleared his throat and tried to be a little more serious. "He's not some weirdo, is he, Lane?" "Nah. He's actually all nerdy and quiet and he's always working at his computer." Lane thought back when Gale introduced him to Charlie a few weeks back. He'd thought Charlie boring then. What had possessed him to think that way? Charlie was shaping up to be the most interesting guy Lane had ever met. Two women walking past winked at him. Lane winked back and grinned. Sorry, gals, but he was taken for now, he thought before turning his attention back to the phone. He was about to say something when he saw Charlie walking towards another guy by the drink kiosk. He hanged up on Gale's mid-sentence when he noticed with rising irritation how stunningly handsome the man Charlie was talking to actually was. Lane looked at his reflection in the glass - compared to that stranger, he looked just like a boyish beach bum. Fuck it, Charlie was bending over and talking with that stranger in a way that reminded Lane of two lovers plotting an assignation! Lane clenched his fists until he felt the tension knotting in his clenching of his jaws. If Charlie wanted to cheat on Lane, that man had another thing coming. Lane would beat up the other guy and then fuck Charlie so hard Charlie would never want anyone but he ever again. "I don't know," Christian Coulson said. "James has been missing for three days now, and I fear - " The man looked around him nervously, but his pain-filled eyes suggested that he feared for the other man more than he feared for his own life. He was terrified of doing anything that might endanger the missing James. Ah yes, James Hyde, that man who kidnapped Coulson, or so everyone thought. Charlie realized now that Coulson might not be so unwilling a victim, and that his superiors had kept some things - like how James trumped them - from lower aides like he. "If I leave, how can he find me?" Coulson finished. "Only you know how to decode the biochemical structure of the gas," Charlie told the man. He was referring to the structure of the gas the terrorists manufactured as biological weapons. His men found out about this gas by serendipity after hacking into the enemy's computers. "And right now, my men are sitting ducks, distracting them while I search you out. You're the best synthetic biochemist in the country and one of the best in the world, Coulson. You cannot absolve your responsibility like this and hide in this corner waiting for James who may as well be dead now." "If I go, I want them to agree that James will not be harmed in any way," Coulson said finally. "I want - " "You will have to face the big guys in Vienna and negotiate with them yourself. I am, in fact, lower in rank than you," Charlie told him. "I can't do anything for you two." "Can you wait here in case James come back?" No fucking way. He would be in Vienna then. "Sure," Charlie said. "Look, meet me here - " he passed a card to Charlie - "at the time stipulated, and someone will fly you right to Vienna." Coulson read the card, tore it to pieces, and swallowed them. "If you lie to me, I'll kill myself before I lift a finger to help any of you. I don't care about you or the rest of this world. James may be dead. Fuck." He shook his head wearily and walked away. Charlie watched him leave. "So, you planning on running away with him?" Lane asked in a low, hard voice. Charlie cursed. How did that man find him? "No," he said simply. "I saw you two whispering," Lane said. "He's not just a friend, is he? Did you come here to meet him? Is he a boyfriend? I - " Charlie had had enough. "He's not my boyfriend. Let it rest, Lane. There are some things you don't understand." "I'm not stupid, Charlie. If I don't understand it's because you choose not to tell me. Who the fuck is he, damn it?" Lane snarled. Charlie made to walk away. Lane's temper snapped. He rarely lost his temper, but this time, he was pushed to the brink. With a wounded sound, he reached furiously out for Charlie. FIVE Charlie easily caught Lane's grasping hand and with a fluid motion, swing Lane's muscular bulk over his shoulder and slam the man down onto the sandy ground. "Don't do that to me again," he told Lane, who lay on the sand gaping at him like a startled goldfish. He offered his arm as a peace gesture. "Come on, Lane, don't be unreasonable." Lane took his hand, only to pull Charlie down hard. Charlie could have stopped himself, but he hesitated, not wanting to hurt Lane, and it was enough hesitation to cause him to find himself flat on his back. He could have pushed Lane off, or he could easily jam his elbow right there in that spot on Lane's chest, severing a nerve and killing him instantly in one blow. Or he could let Lane rage. He chose to lay there, knowing full well that Lane would never have the upper hand where they were concerned. If Lane turned out to be an abusive asshole though, Charlie would be most disappointed. He was starting to like this man. Lane touched his cheek with a shaky hand. That threw Charlie off- balance - he was expecting a physical blow, not this. He looked at Lane, and realized with shock that mirrored in Lane's eyes that Lane was hurting. They both were shocked - Lane was shocked that he could ever hurt this much, and Charlie was shocked to feel a part of him he thought long dead hurting now with Lane. Poor Lane. Poor Charlie. "He's not my boyfriend," Charlie told Lane. Why did his voice tremble and break? He had faced death before, this should be nothing. Why did he hurt this much? And why did he feel alive at this instance, when Lane touched him like this? "Trust me on this, Lane. I can't tell you anything more." "How could you ask me to trust you when you don't trust me?" Lane asked. Because Lane would never expect the answer Charlie would give, Charlie wanted to say. Even if Lane knew, Lane would tell someone inadvertently and then he would suffer for it. Charlie didn't care what would happen to his own self, but he would protect Lane if it meant making Lane believe that Charlie hated him. He would say something deliberately venomous, puncturing right at Lane's insecurities, but. he couldn't. He wanted to tell Lane. His secrets seemed suddenly too much a burden to bear. "I really can't tell you," he heard himself say. Lane flinched as if he had been physically hit. Charlie wished he hadn't done this, he wished he could spare Lane this, because he knew at this moment, Lane was experiencing something new and incomprehensible. For the first time, Lane Carlson's heart was breaking. And Charlie, who never knew his heart still beat, thought he could feel the cracks breaking his own heart in painful synchrony with Lane's. "Tell me!" Lane pleaded brokenly as he rammed home his cock one last time into Charlie before the dam in his nuts broke and his cock shot his spunk deep up Charlie's rectum. "Fuck you, Charlie. Why do you do this to me?" he sobbed as he collapsed onto the still convulsing Charlie. He rubbed away at the sweat - tears? - covering his eyes. "What have you done to me?" he said with a ragged sob. "Someone I cared for died because I told him things I shouldn't," Charlie told him. "I don't want that to happen to you." "What are you? A secret agent?" Lane said. When he saw Charlie's face, he had to moved off Charlie to study the man better. "Fucking hell, you really are one, aren't you?" Charlie placed his finger over the other man's lip, silencing him. "I'm leaving for Vienna tonight. You'll have to forget me and - " he gestured at the bed - "this. Please, Lane, don't look at me like that. Gerard knew of my job, and he told a man he thought was his close friend. The friend turned out to be an agent for the other side. Guess who died trying to save my back." Even now, after three years of atonement and repentance, the memories were like burning welts across his senses. "None of my friends are secret agents," Lane said reasonably. "I can't imagine." "Neither can Gerard," Charlie told him gently. "And you're leaving tonight for good," Lane said. Charlie narrowed his eyes at Lane's apparently calm acceptance of his impending departure. "Yeah." "How long do we have?" "Five hours," Charlie said, glancing at the clock. "Then I guess I'd better make this something we can remember always," Lane said. Charlie made to answer, but Lane's mouth covered his then. Maybe they needn't words for this. Oh yes, they needed not speak - Lane's mouth over his cock was enough. Lane's kisses were enough, and so was the way he kneaded Charlie's pectorals hard before suckling at each nipple. It was enough that Lane took him then, slowly, without urgency, in steady deep thrusts until Charlie came once, twice, maybe thrice, or maybe it was a long series of orgasmic palpitations that shook him to his very core - everything Lane did was enough. Because despite everything he had went through, he felt his heart starting to beat again. He felt warm blood flowing deep into parts of his body that he thought were dead and barren since Gerard, and he came in an orgasm that wasn't for once a result of a bodily need. Because while Lane didn't say it, he cared for Charlie. Charlie didn't know why or how, but at this moment, he was cared for - Lane cared for him. It was enough to shatter the long barren hibernation of Charles Reynolds from the wastelands of his grief. He tightened his fingers into a deep hold in the sensitive groove between Lane's heaving buttocks, and arched his back as Lane's powerful cock triggered another harsh climax in his bruised body. He wanted to laugh. Or cry. He didn't know where the top ended and the bottom began, lost were he in his emotional turmoil. But as Lane gathered him in the man's arms for one warm - if sweaty - embrace, Charlie realized that maybe it didn't mattered, the why and what and if. He was alive, and he had Lane. And despair tore through him when he realized that he had lost Lane the moment he had just starting to discover the man. SIX Jeremy Northam threw his cigarette onto the ground and stepped on it. "About time you get here," he said as he got into the helicopter seat. "Where's Hugo?" Charlie asked, although he didn't hesitate to let Coulson climb onboard the chopper. Jeremy had freelanced before he went straight, and sometimes - such as now - he would be willing to help out, especially when his friend Noah Wyle had a stake in the outcome. "Hugo's indisposed," Jeremy told him. His voice was nonchalant, but his eyes were grave. "I was informed that there is a mole among you. Hugo sustained some injuries. That's why me - a free agent - is sent here. Now let us get out of here before someone - fuck!" Jeremy ducked as a bullet barely missed his head. "Okay, we're off. There's a seat for one more, Charlie. Get in. I don't think your next flight out will be safe." Even as he spoke, Jeremy lifted a crossbow he had kept at his side and fired - dead center at the sniper at the rooftop. Most people preferred guns. Jeremy preferred unconventional weapons. Charlie saw more men coming at them. He counted five, no three, as Jeremy's crossbow brought two more down. "I'm out of ammo," Jeremy yelled as the chopper roared to life. "Get in, Charlie." Still, he hesitated. He looked back. "Go, Charlie!" Charlie blinked. To his shock, there was Lane, tackling down one men. "Lane, you fool!" he yelled at the man. Why couldn't he sleep like he was supposed to be when Charlie left him? "I can't go, Jeremy, he'll die. He's unarmed and there are three of them." "He'll be okay," Coulson yelled over the sound of the chopper's blades. Charlie followed Coulson's nod. There was another man joining the fray - at Lane's side. A brief glance in the street light revealed that it was James Hyde. "Let's go," Coulson yelled. "Hyde will know where to find us, and he'll keep your man safe." "Go!" Lane yelled. "Save the world for me, Charlie. It's okay." He punched down one of his opponent. Lane looked like a hero at that moment, Charlie thought stupidly. A brave, courageous, idealistic hero. Maybe he should have trusted Lane. Maybe he should have - "No," he whispered as Jeremy impatiently dragged him onto the chopper. But he didn't fight the other man. He watched until Lane and the others were blurred specks on the ground. Or maybe it was because he was, for the first time, crying and he couldn't see for the tears in his eyes. "He'll be okay," Jeremy told him. "He looks familiar though. What is his name?" "Lane Carlson," Charlie said numbly. "Ah. Now I know he'll be okay," Jeremy said. He gave Charlie a bemused glance. "You don't know that he's a very accomplished martial artist? Went a few rounds with him once - he's actually pretty good. With Hyde covering his ass, he'll probably get a bullet or two but he'll be okay." "No, I don't know," Charlie just said. "I wish I know more about him. I wish..." "You need to stick with unconventional lovers," Jeremy suggested. "Look at me. I have a cat burglar. Julian, Noah, and Brian are screwing equally screwed-up computer hackers. The next time we have fun like this little adventure, our little darlings can come along for a ride too. It's much better than having someone who doesn't understand and keep nagging at you for disappearing for some unexplained period of time." He gave Charlie a sidelong glance. "You're not listening to a word I say, are you?" "Fuck you, Jeremy. You always talk too much." "Well, I suggest you try to pull yourself together before we land in Vienna. If there is any unexpected welcoming committee awaiting us, we'll need to get ready," Jeremy said, cheerfully ignoring Charlie's muttered curse. But Charlie wasn't listening anymore. He slumped against his seat, eyes closed, dreaming of impossible hopes and futile longings. A year later Lane pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and frowned as he tried to decipher the rather confusing and wordy paragraph he had just read. With a sigh he gave up on it and looked at the scenery outside the library. He still get smiles from strangers - he was still a hit sexy bastard after all - but he never took up their invitations beyond casual flirting. Even more shocking, he'd been celibate for a year. It was summer, and he should be heading down to where the sun and the beach were to enjoy life to the hilt. Instead, he put on a pair of reading glasses - he'd gotten mildly long-sighted within these last few months - and spent his free time at the library. His reputation as a physical trainer had improved tremendously when he helped the cops capture three internationally wanted terrorists last year, so much so that he had to turn down prospective clients so that he can have his evenings off to finish his college education. College: who would've thought? "Hey," a handsome dark-haired man said in a soft whisper as he took the seat across the table. "Wanna join me for some drinks after the library closes?" Steven Burton was his name. As the only other gay guy in their night class, they had immediately formed an easy friendship. He was gorgeous, and over the months, very obviously having a crush on Lane. Lane tried his best to keep the distance between them, but Steve was such a sensitive guy it could be hard sometimes. Sometimes Lane wondered what Steve was doing taking up a course in political science and legislature. The man seemed happier doing bizarre (to Lane) things like watching the sunset and standing in the rain just for the hell of it. Then last month Lane realized that Steve took up every class he could. Steve was very rich - his millionaire grandparents from each side of his family left him two huge trust funds (he was their only grandchild), and that didn't count the inheritance he would gain from his parents. All he did was to study and learn everything he could. Steve's one weird dude. But he was a good friend to Lane, and Lane was grateful for someone to talk to on his walk home from class. Steve refused to be introduced to Lane's friends but Lane wasn't bothered by it. He could use the companionship. "Not tonight, Steve," he told the man. It was the start of summer, and he wanted to be alone. He was right now fucking Charlie in the backseat of his Land Rover one year ago, and he wanted to drive to some quiet place tonight to watch the night sky, play corny 1980s music on his stereo, and be uncharacteristically contemplative for once. Steve turned away to hide his disappointment. Lane didn't notice, he was deep in thoughts. If he was cruel to overlook Steve's wearing his heart on his sleeves, he didn't mean it. Charlie had left him indelibly a changed man, and for the first time, Lane was aware of the meaning of heartbreak and bitterness. It hurt so much that he found himself volunteering to teach kids how to buff up during weekends as well as going back to school. His friends thought he had gone mad. He was inclined to agree. "Penny for your thoughts?" came a very familiar voice. Lane jumped, and then gaped as Charlie got down on one knee so that his face was at the same level as the sitting Lane's. "Sorry it took so long, but I had some business to clear up in Vienna. Do you still want me back?" They were in a library. It wouldn't do to create a public disturbance. "Well, yeah," Lane just said. "Then come with me," Charlie said, straightening up and extending one hand - if Lane would take it, that is. "Where are we going?" Lane asked, although he had already taken Charlie's hand. "Charlie?" Steve asked tentatively. Charlie seemed to notice the man for the first time. He gave the man a curious look, but he shrugged. If Lane was sleeping with that man, Charlie's expression seemed to say that he didn't care because now that he was back, Lane would be his and only his. Lane found himself liking this new, dominant Charlie a lot, from the way Charlie held his hand tight and warm to the quiet strength the man always had that Lane only now started to notice. "See you later, Steve," Lane said, and then he was off with Charlie. "Where are we going?" he asked the other man once more. "Does it matter?" Charlie had brought them to Lane's Land Rover. "Now get in and drive. I miss you." Much later, Lane breathed heavily as he collapsed onto Charlie. His cock still throbbed a few more times, expelling a few more powerful spurts of his juices into Charlie's welcoming depths, but he was pretty much done - for now. "God, I miss you," he finally answered Charlie. "The next time you go away, Charlie, just tell me you'll come back to me and I'll be right here." "I'll come back," Charlie told him. "I promise." Lane kissed him back, their passions rekindling anew once more, and then Charlie was once more lifting his legs to hook them over Lane's shoulders. This was going to be a great adventure, Lane thought cheerfully, and then Charlie was kissing him and whispering lusty sweet nothings, and Lane gave himself fully to the moment.