Revenge was a dish best served cold.
In Ezra Standish’s case, it wouldn’t do, though. In Ezra Standish’s case, coldness was not a factor. Revenge would be hot. Hot and bothering. Hot and driving him insane. Chris smiled to himself as he had half an eye and ear on the proceedings of the seminar while his mind was circling the Bond, probing carefully, then launching a sudden sneak attack on the recipient on the other side. Ezra sat opposite of him at the conference table, eyes glued to the large display screen up front where an instructor was telling them something or other about a new camouflage system. While it was generally an interesting topic, both men had been briefed by their very own engineer already since Josiah had caught wind of the brand-new technology. This was just so there was a record of their presence at the briefing.
Ever since the sensual and highly erotic encounter three nights ago, where Ezra had asked for Chris’s complete trust in the matter, where he had brought him to the brink, only to stop and not take him over time and time again, Chris had been looking for a way to get back at his partner. He had deeply enjoyed the experiment, he had to confess. The lack of visual input, the complete dependence on his partner, trusting only his sense of touch and sound, had given him something new. Something he had never experienced before. Together with the connection between them, it had been a mind-blowing experience. He had turned himself over to Ezra, trusted him while he was at his most vulnerable, and his lover had given him indescribable satisfaction and pleasure.
Still, Chris was out for payback concerning this attack on his senses. He wanted Ezra to experience the need he had felt, the craving for release when there was none given. Since Larabee didn’t want to repay in kind, he had finally chosen the link as his weapon.
So as of this very morning, he had started to carefully infuse small erotic messages into their Bond. Little things, nothing too arousing. It was what they normally did. It was their way to display affection while keeping a perfectly normally façade. Slowly, Chris had changed the intensity, had ‘upped the voltage’, as Vin had once joked. It had earned him a surprised look from Ezra, but the infamous poker face had not slipped. They had gone through their routines; until now.
The seminar had been rescheduled to an earlier time. Vin, Buck and JD had taken the Chimera out on a test run, Josiah had a day off, and Nathan had a two-day stint at the medical facilities, where he was taking a little refresher course himself. So now Chris sat in his chair, completely relaxed, teasing his soul partner mercilessly as the instructor droned on about the stealth capabilities of the new system.
It wasn’t really very hard to increase the dosage. Chris kept on broadcasting what he had felt throughout the hours Ezra had kept him blindfolded, at his mercy, aroused and wanting. Judging from Standish’s expression, he didn’t feel a thing. But his eyes gave him away. Not to mention the half-aroused state his body was in. The table and the darkness of the room hid it, but Chris was quite aware of the condition. Still, he pressed on.
Oh, revenge was sweet.
The seminar wound down two hours later and from Ezra’s expression, he was in desperate need of a break. Chris smiled evilly, directing the smile solely at his agent, then left the room with the others, who were chatting excitedly with each other. The new system promised some improvement in the near future. Ezra lagged behind, his whole posture tense, and the look he gave Chris let the other man smirk. He turned to one of his fellow team leaders and let himself be drawn into the discussion about the pro and cons of the stealth mode.
Ezra excused himself and disappeared down the corridor. Chris sent quite a clear mental image of what he would love to do right here and now, and he saw his partner flinch as if he had been slapped. Ezra tried to bat the images back at him, but it was a weak return at best.
Damn, he was getting quite good at that, Chris thought, satisfied. He had Ezra on the defense, trying to fight back instead of just strengthening his shields. When he finally did what Chris would have done, reinforcing his mind-shields, it was already too late. He had to revert to flinging back what he could, which was pitifully little, and Chris had an almost clear shot.
 

Ezra fled into an empty room, sinking against the wall, shaking all over. He was growing hard again and he fought the physical reaction to the mental images Chris was constantly sending. It was torture. Pure and unrestrained torture. The images weren’t mere suggestions. They clearly gave away what the older man had in mind and it made Ezra weak-kneed and left him wanting. There was a burst of unfiltered desire and he moaned softly, hands brushing over his own hardness.
Lord! Chris was getting good at this. So good that the thief was having difficulties maintaining his passive façade to the outside world. His poker face was harder and harder to uphold. Fantasy and reality were blurring and he couldn’t escape it. Mainly because he wanted it as well.
“So there you are.”
The growl jerked him out of his thoughts and he cursed his lack of control again. Surprises like this could get a person killed. He looked up into two, dark eyes, glinting with desire, and he licked his lips. Chris’s hand grasped his own, cupping them over his arousal, and Ezra gasped. Electricity shot through him, blacking out reality. The tantalizing mouth was next to his ear as Chris rubbed him teasingly.
“Not here,” he whispered.
Ezra tried to push himself into the feather light touch, widening his stance in the feeble hope of a deeper touch, but Chris would have none of that. He took his hand away, drawing a needy whimper from Ezra, who cursed himself silently for such a weakness. Lips touched his earlobe, teeth sank gently into it, nipping, then the taller man briefly leaned himself fully against him. It was almost Ezra’s undoing.
Chris suddenly pushed himself away, the diabolical glint in his eyes back. <Later> he purred, adding a few images and emotions to the one word that left Ezra panting as frustration rose.
 

Chris left the room Ezra had fled into, satisfied with his own handiwork. The thief was close; very close. A bit more and he would have gone over, but Chris would keep him at the edge. Not that the whole situation left him cold. He felt his own arousal simmer just beneath the surface and he had to call on some control not to run back and finish the job. He reminded himself of the blindfold, of the teasing finger tips, the tongue, lips and everything else.
Oh, payback was a bitch.
 

Ezra had no clear idea how he managed to get from the conference room back to his apartment, but he had. He had even stopped by the office, collecting his mails and sending off a report that was almost overdue. But by then he was a nervous wreck. He needed to get out of the public and somewhere private. Chris was driving him insane and he knew it. The blond knew it only too well, which was why he kept on doing it. The reasons evaded Ezra, but right now he was far beyond logical thinking.
He stepped into his quarters and stopped, almost dropping the keycard. Chris was sitting on the couch, well, lounging on it, really; watching him. Ezra pushed the door shut, swallowing as he saw the hazel eyes sweep over him. It was a hard, possessive look that went right through and into the depth of his soul.
“You are late, Agent Standish,” the rough voice reached his ears.
Ezra fumbled for words and found himself lacking. He stood there, mesmerized, unable to voice any protest or desire. Chris rose in one fluid motion and approached, each step an expression of raw sexuality in Ezra’s eyes. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t move. His semi-aroused condition that had barely changed a notch the whole day turned into full desire as his mouth was claimed and he was pushed against the wall. Chris’s hand slipped between their bodies, cupping him, and Ezra moaned into the mouth that was slanted over his.
“Please,” he begged as Chris massaged him through the confines of his pants.
“Please what?” It was a husky whisper, but still a demand, an order.
Fingers danced over his sides, seeking and finding the right response to the touch. They left a hot path through his clothes, burning him.
“Need you,” Ezra moaned, trembling with unfulfilled need.
Chris drew back once more, just like in the room, and Ezra couldn’t help another whimper escaping is lips. Chris couldn’t do this to him! He had kept him on the edge, just a little push away from a climax, all day, and he was about ready to do whatever his partner wanted to find release.
“Chris,” he begged.
The evil look was back, accompanied by the smile that made Ezra shiver in anticipation. The taller man withdrew further, hands sliding away from Ezra, leaving the places where they had touched tingling, yearning for more. He turned and walked into the bedroom, not looking back. He was confident that the thief would follow. Ezra swallowed, trying to find the strength to move. He did, somehow. As he entered the bedroom he felt hands grab him, a hot mouth over his own, and he didn’t fight the manhandling as he was pushed closer to the bed.
“My turn,” Chris growled throatily as he rubbed his own hardness against Ezra’s, drawing a sharp hiss. “I want you, Ezra.”
The words raced through him like ice. His eyes widened and he saw the question in the dark eyes, listened to the echo in the Bond. The image in his mind was clear, unmistakable, and highly erotic. Lord, he groaned, temors racing through his body.
<Will you trust me that far?> Chris asked roughly.
<Yes, Chris. Yes. Take me> he managed.
Chris’s mouth slanted over his and Ezra felt two hands grab his hips, pulling him against his taller lover. He groaned into the blond’s mouth as he was ravaged, Chris transmitting the need he had quite clearly. He let himself be maneuvered to the bed, Chris nipping at his throat as Ezra arched into every little touch he could get. The younger man tried to touch Chris in return, but the other would have none of it. He teethed the hollow of Ezra’s throat, almost growling as he did so. Chris undressed him, then himself. Ezra fell back, panting, eyes dilated, wanting release, but it was still denied to him.
<Please> he pleaded, his breathing hitching as one nipple was teethed.
His hands grabbed Chris’s head, trying to keep it in place, but his partner was in control. He pushed the hands away, pinning them down, feverish eyes regarding Ezra with lust.
Somewhere it dawned on him that this was revenge. As he succumbed to the pleasure, Ezra thought that while revenge might be best served cold, it was also sweet.
 

Chris looked at the man underneath him, taking in the flushed skin, the heated expression in the green eyes, and he felt the Bond twang with need. Ezra was at the end of his endurance.
<Soon> he murmured, bending down to kiss a straining nipple, still keeping the wrists of his lover restrained.
<Now….> Ezra whimpered, writhing.
Larabee laughed against the twitching skin and grabbed the condom he had brought along. He had planned this, but he had been unsure whether or not Ezra would allow him to go this far. It would be the first time, for both of them, and he didn’t want to scare his partner. He would back off if Ezra decided not to go along. The lubricant followed and he heard a moan of expectation as he poured a generous amount over two fingers.
<Ezra?>
<Yes, do it> was the hissed answer. <Please>
They had experimented with this before, but he had never taken Ezra. It had been little games, pushing the other over the top, making him scream with pleasure, but never like this. He would prepare his partner as best as possible, not wanting to hurt him, and from the responses he received, he was doing well.
Chris slid behind Ezra, taking the least straining position without submitting Ezra to having to keep up his own weight in the process. He wanted it to be good for both of them and muscle cramps wasn’t fitting into that description.
<Need…. you>
<Need you, too> he answered the plea as he slowly slid inside, feeling the groan.
Chris screwed his eyes shut, unable to suppress a gasp. His feelings were echoed and doubled by what he felt from Ezra over the Bond, and his control was quickly slipping. He hadn’t expected this; not at all.
 
 

Chris watched his lover sleep. Ezra had been exhausted, mentally and physically, after he had finally been granted the needed release from the sexual tension he had been under all day. Chris felt no remorse for what he had done to him, the sweet mental torture. It had been good; for both of them. Their love-making had been slow but fierce and Ezra’s response had been incredible. He had been so wired, so tightly coiled, that something had completely broken inside him as Chris had brought him to his peak. Climax had nearly let him black out and Chris had just gathered the trembling form into his arms, listening to the thundering heartbeat, the panting, felt weak hands trying to hold onto him.
Gently combing a few strands of hair out of his face, Chris placed a light kiss on the forehead. Yes, it had been incredible. Walls had broken down, drawing him into the whirlpool that was Ezra, and he had gladly given in. Only too gladly. He suspected his partner would be a bit sore. Chris had nearly lost control as Ezra had pulled him with him. No, correction. He had lost control. It had been so amazing, so incredibly beautiful.
Now he enjoyed the afterglow, the warm feeling in his body, felt his relaxed muscles, and he smiled to himself. Ezra lay snuggled into his embrace, his breathing showing he was deeply asleep, and Chris was very content in his current position. If it was up to him, they could remain here for a while. Just like that.
Chris let his thoughts wander, the body in his arms shifting slightly, but Ezra didn’t wake. They had never really defined their relationship. They were soul partners, fellow Agents,….. lovers. What the last meant had never been discussed. It was an accepted fact between the two so different men that the mental link had now turned into a physical affirmation, even a need, as well. Neither of them had a set role in their partnership. It was giving and taking, a perfect balance achieved by their Bond. Ezra was no Sarah to Chris. He knew that. Their love-making was different. Oh, it was sexually arousing and satisfying, but there was the connection, the link, which gave the whole a different flavor. Ezra wasn’t a woman and Chris didn’t see one in him; he knew it was the same way with Ezra’s view of him.
What drew them to each other was a mystery only the Bond could explain. Chris had never been interested in men. Ezra was different. Completely. He found deep satisfaction in his partner, something he had never felt before. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t realize he was under scrutiny. Ezra was awake. Tired, exhausted, unwilling to really move, but he was awake. Chris leaned down and traced the lips with his tongue, feeling the mouth open and accept the lazy kiss.
<Thinking?> Ezra inquired drowsily.
<Uh-huh>
<Don’t hurt yourself>
Chris smiled.
<So…> Ezra probed. <About what?>
<You. Me. My addiction to you>
<Addiction, Commander?> Amusement flooded him.
<Yeah> Chris breathed. <Addiction. No hope for a recovery, no hope to find a cure> He kissed him again. <Don’t want one either>
Ezra raised himself into the kiss, moaning appreciatively.
<You okay?> Chris asked as they separated, caressing the handsome face of his lover, looking into the unguarded eyes.
<Perfectly>
<Sore?>
<Not too much>
Ezra snuggled deeper into his embrace, one leg sliding between Chris’s thighs. His arm curled around his lover’s waist and he placed a kiss near the closest nipple. <You have some mean moves, Commander Larabee. That was not nice>
<Oh, and here I thought you enjoyed it>
Heat flushed through the Bond. <Not what I meant>
Chris toyed with the soft hair. <Revenge was mine> he sent with enough sexual roughness that Ezra unconsciously missed a breath. Neither of them was up for another round just yet and Chris didn’t want to put Ezra through it anyway. His partner was too exhausted. Later… later was another matter.
Ezra infused an image into his drowsy mind and Chris felt his breath catch. It was an image he had had in his head before, three days ago. Ezra. Many silk scarves. Bed posts.
<Devil> he murmured.
<Yours>
Yes, his. His alone. Chris smiled and pulled the blanket over them. He knew, had always known, he was a possessive sob. This was his soul mate; only his. He slid deeper into the pillows and let himself be lulled into sleep by the warmth in his arms.
 

on to Too Close For Comfort