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Too Much Love Will Kill You

By Catherine
Page 1 of 2

"I'm just the pieces of the man I used to be

Too many bitter tears are raining down on me

I'm far away from home

And I've been facing this alone

For much too long."

Blake watched as Avon paced angrily round the flight deck. The man was irritated and no wonder, Blake thought to himself. Gan was dead, killed in the explosion, and Blake's dark haired companion was very intent on not meeting the same fate.

"I wish..." Blake murmured, unaware that Avon could hear him. They were alone here. Blake was on watch, Vila and the women either gone to eat or sleep. And Avon? He was enjoying himself, as usual.

"You wish what, Blake? That Gan hadn't died? How very noble of you." The sarcasm in Avon's voice hurt but Blake was determined not to let the other man know the amount of pain his scorn caused. It went much deeper this time, deeper than before. This time he deserved the scorn. Gan's death was his fault. He should have realized that it was too easy; that the Federation would have done something to protect the heart of its power. But he didn't see and Gan was dead. Gentle Gan who had only ever wanted to help, to protect others. Avon's voice was intruding again. "You would have liked to die in his place, perhaps?"

"He was my responsibility and he died. Leave it, Avon." Blake turned away, shoulders hunched against Avon's verbal attacks. He didn't need this now. He knew he was at fault. There was no need for Avon to hammer that home.

"I suggest you be careful of the rest of your followers, Blake," Avon whispered over his shoulder. "Reckless disregard will not endear you to them."

"And what about you, Avon? What will endear me to you?" There, Blake had managed to say it, blurted out in a moment of angry frustration. He spun round and came face to face with Avon, the smooth pale skin mere inches away. There was no expression on the chiseled features, no smile or scowl. But the dark eyes seemed impossibly large, a burning flame licking at him from their depths. Blake felt a sinking sensation in his stomach as Avon's gaze never wavered.

"There's nothing you can do. I'm not a follower, Blake. Never forget that."

"How could I? You so constantly remind me." Sarcasm coated his words, making them harsh with bitterness. How long had he wanted Avon, for himself even more than for his cause? The other man was a terrible temptation, flesh and spirit, one that Blake felt could destroy him. But that feeling didn't stop the wanting, the needing, nor the pain of rejection. Avon didn't believe in the cause, didn't believe in him. How could anyone believe in him with companions dying around them?

"I will not end up like Gan." Calmly stated, it brought Blake's guilt to the fore as well as his anger.

"No, Avon, you never would. You'd kill me first." Avon's eyes narrowed at the bitterness and self-pitying tone.

"If need be. I will not be sacrificed." Part of Blake wanted to scream that he'd never do that to Avon while the other part wanted to strike out, to hurt Avon as he was hurting.

"Leave me. I got your message loud and clear. You hardly need to go on repeating it." Did the others feel the same way? Did they no longer trust him even that much? Avon was turning to go. Elegantly clad in black leather, he stirred Blake with his mere presence. At least his absence would help Blake to think. He had a lot to consider, decisions to make.

"Remember it, Blake. Next time, discuss your plans and accept our input. You're not omnipotent, and your mistakes seem to turn out rather costly." A faint smile crossed Avon's lips and he was gone, leaving the flight deck to Blake.

Sighing, Blake sank into the flight deck couch, resting his head on his hands. Too many mistakes, lives lost without gain, pieces of his past flashed through his mind. The Freedom Party, his friends, family, had there been others? Ones that he no longer remembered?

"The cause is just," Blake whispered to himself, "but what about the means?" Was it the only way? He couldn't see another, not now. Mind made up, he leaned back.

"Orac, can the planet below support human life?"

~ ~ ~

"Too much love will kill you

If you don't make up your mind

Torn between the lover

And the love you leave behind

You're headed for disaster

'cos you never read the signs

Too much love will kill you

Every time."

"Damn it, Blake! Why? Couldn't you do your soul searching in your cabin? Prove to yourself with something a little less drastic that they will still follow you?" Blake frowned up at him. Avon was leaning against the wall, next to the door, while he sat in his desk chair. Too tired to handle Avon well, Blake snapped back.

"Why the interest, Avon? You made your views perfectly clear. `One more death will finish them.' Mine or one of theirs, it can hardly matter to you so long as it is not yours." Blake's eyes followed Avon as he moved away from the wall. Dangerous was the word that came to Blake's mind at the other man's approach. Blake stiffened in his chair. Avon was too tense, too controlled, even for him.

"I think my actions made my views perfectly clear. After all, I did go to some effort to bring you back."

"The others wouldn't have let you do otherwise.'

"They wouldn't have known I could do it unless I told them so." Well, that was probably true but it didn't make things any clearer to Blake. He was definitely too tired for this.

"I never knew you cared," Blake replied sarcastically, wondering why Avon derived such pleasure from tormenting him. He was right in front of him now, staring down at him. Angry?

"You should have."

Not anger then. Despite the Federation, Blake remembered that tone, the husky sound of passion. Not anger at all, lust. He met Avon's gaze, saw amusement colour the intensity of his expression.

"Yes, you definitely should have." Avon bent down, leaning over him, pressing lips that were soft, so soft, against Blake's mouth. Blake couldn't help but respond. How long ago had he first dreamed of this? Hard hands gripped his arms, his lips freed after a teasing lick.

"Avon..." Blake trailed off, unsure of what to say. That he cared? That he wanted Avon with an intensity that bordered on agony? "I..." Avon's lips came down on his once more, silencing him. When released, he gasped for breath.

"No words, not now." Avon's voice was tight with tension but his hands were gentle, rubbing at the spots where they had bruised him. "Actions speak louder, Blake."

Pushing against Avon's chest, Blake rose. They stood there for a moment, just looking, before Blake reached out. His fingers traced the angular bones of Avon's face, thumb brushing against his lips, parting them. Avon allowed it, opening his mouth to Blake's fingers, tongue teasing at them. Sweat began to prickle across Blake's shoulders and he could feel a throbbing pulse in his groin. Avon's hands were stroking along his back, sliding down to his hips, fingers caressing the waistband of his pants. His free hand went to the fastenings on Avon's shirt, loosening them. His lips settled against the delicate skin of Avon's neck, licking and sucking. Avon moaned softly, fingers tightening on the curves of Blake's ass.

"I want you," Avon hissed fiercely.

"You have me." Blake's reply was whispered softly, his arms wrapping around Avon for a powerful embrace before releasing him. Avon's smile was wicked as he stepped back, pulling his tunic over his head. Blake couldn't tear his eyes away from the flesh revealed to him. Milky white and dusted with dark hair, tiny nipples peeking through. He touched a fingertip to one, watched it stiffen a little more. Avon shivered.

"Now, Blake." Avon's hands went to Blake's shirt, helping him to loosen the ties and pull it over his head. Bare-chested, he submitted to Avon's hands and gaze, warm fingers exploring, teasing at his own nipples. He trembled. "So smooth," Avon marveled, pressing lips to nipple, licking and nipping. Blake groaned and cupped Avon's face, tilting it up for his mouth to ravage. Avon opened for him, taking his tongue, sucking on it, making it his. A hand reached down, cupping him through the cloth, stroking the hardness of his cock, claiming it.

"Mine." The word was spoken so softly, Blake almost missed it. But the hand tightened fractionally before letting go, turning its attention to his zipper. He set his own hands the task of getting rid of Avon's trousers as well and between the two of them, they removed trousers, shoes and socks, so that they were standing there, completely naked, totally vulnerable. This time it was Avon who reached out first.

He pressed Blake back onto the bed and leaned over him, laying a trail of kisses from lips to crotch, sucking and biting at his nipples along the way. It drove Blake wild, his mind, if not his body, new to the sensations and loving them. When the exquisite touches stopped, he propped himself on his elbows to watch.

One of Avon's hands held his cock. And as Blake watched, ever so slowly, Avon lowered his lips until they rested against the satiny tip. A tiny bit of fluid leaked from the tip and his tongue darted out, lapping it up.

"Avon, please!" The cry was drawn from Blake. This was too much. He ached for it, was desperate for it, whatever it was going to be. This was Avon making love to him, Avon pleasuring him.

"You need me." There was a sort of triumph in Avon's voice but Blake was too far gone to worry about that.

"Yes."

"Then you shall have me." And Avon abandoned his cock to fish a small tube out of his tunic and hand it to Blake.

"Lubricant." Blake felt himself flush.

"Charming colour." Avon's voice was filled with humour. "You do know where to put it?" One of Avon's hands rested against the curve of his own ass. Blake glared at him but couldn't stop a smile from escaping. He had never really seen this side of Avon before. It was addictive.

"I know a place or two." Blake squeezed a small amount onto his fingers, nudging Avon up onto his knees. Stroking the firm muscles, he tried to relax them, finally spreading them for his fingers. He traced up and down the cleft before letting one well oiled finger slip inside. Avon moaned and pressed back, taking it in past the knuckle. "You want his badly," Blake whispered, voice rough with need. Avon merely nodded, panting as another finger slipped in. Blake twisted them, loosening him up. Forcing them deep, a sharp twist brought a gasp of pleasure and a jerk of Avon's hips. A third finger and sweat was coating the slim back, making it shine. Blake licked at the back of his neck, nibbled at his ears. He was almost ready.

Withdrawing his fingers, Blake added more oil and coated his own cock with it. Even the touch of his own hand was almost too much with Avon in front of him, ass in the air, waiting for his cock. A last bit of oil for his fingers and he slid one hand round, grasping Avon's cock, feeling it throb in his hand. He dragged his cock to the entrance and pushed, gently pressing in until Avon had the first inch or so.

"All right?" Avon was starting to pant and he was tight with tension though his cock was still hard in Blake's hand.

"Yes, don't stop." Another thrust into the hot heaven of Avon's ass and Avon's head went down, a small whimper of pain escaping. Blake rubbed his cheek against the satiny skin of Avon's back, trying to comfort. "So big." Avon gasped as Blake pressed in a little more. Releasing his grip on Avon's cock, Blake pressed his thumbs in the crease of Avon's ass, next to his cock. A bit of pressure and Avon's cheeks spread wider. Blake took a calming breath and pushed. Avon groaned and tossed his head back. Blake was fully inserted, Avon impaled on his cock, shivering and trembling with it. Blake paused, waiting. There, a faint relaxation of Avon's muscles and a tiny pressure back.

"Ah, Avon," Blake murmured, beginning the slow thrust and withdrawal that would bring him to climax. One hand returned to Avon's cock, milking it in time with his thrusts. Over and over he drove into the hot depths, finding the angle that seemed to bring Avon the most pleasure until Avon was as wild under him as he was above Avon.

Suddenly, he felt an extra stiffening in the cock in his hand and Avon gave a choked-off cry. Orgasm ripped through him, cum coating Blake's hand. Avon's muscles tightened, forcing Blake's climax from him. He cried out as Avon's muscles clenched down, milking him, taking all of him. Spiraling down, he slipped out before collapsing across Avon's back, cock still nestled between the smooth, damp cheeks. Avon's face was peaceful, sated. Eyes closed, a slight trace of moisture that Blake licked away. That brought a faint smile and Blake rolled to his back, pulling Avon on top of him. Long eyelashes lifted.

"Avon, I..." A finger covered his lips. He reached to take it away and noticed the semen smeared across his hand. Avon took his fingers and licked them clean.

"I know." Avon kissed him and Blake tasted himself on those lips. "I know." And with that, Avon rolled off, resting his head on the pillow, face turned toward Blake, and closed his eyes. After a few moments, soft snoring was Blake's only companion. But he stayed awake for a long time, pondering until he too fell into an exhausted doze. Becoming one in his cabin didn't mean becoming one on the flight deck. What if Avon became even more difficult? He wanted this. He let one arm close possessively across his new lover's chest. But it wasn't all he wanted.

~ ~ ~


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