Malta

[peace_inthe_violence]

This is a fairy tale of blood and bullets
It is the story of three men and three women and a small island between Italy and Africa.
This is a story about tragedy and pain, about healing and hope, but mostly it is about
love.

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The thing was Booker didn't want to pull away. He didn't feel trapped when Nicky held him down. He felt safe and secure with Nicky's hands tight around his wrist. With his legs wrapped around Nicky's waist they were securely tangled around each other and he loved it.

"Never seen myself," he panted, blinking at Nicky. Well, he had seen himself in a few sketches Joe had done but nothing really detailed.

Nothing he really looked at long because he got flustered seeing himself like that each time. Booker could be a blushing virgin about certain things.

"I see you." And only Nicky right now. That's his whole world at the moment with no Joe or Andy to draw his attention elsewhere.

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He groaned, dipping his head down to take Booker's lower lip between his teeth. He soothed the hurt with a kiss, long and lazy and deep, much like the pace he was setting. Sweet and slow, savoring every sound that he managed to coax out of the larger man under him.

Eventually, his shoulder started to twinge at the angle of holding Booker's wrists, so he let Booker go and sat back up onto his heels, his hands going to his hips and holding him tightly in place as he gave him a few hard, fast thrusts.

Just to make sure he was still paying attention.

[transfuge]

Oh, he had started to drift getting lost in the hazy cloud of pleasure. The sharp thrust snapped him out of it almost immediately. Booker bucked up against Nicky then blinked and refocused on him.

"Bastard." Booker rubbed his hands up Nicky's arms and squeezed. "I'm with you. I'm here."

He actually sort of liked the drifting, that place where he was suspended in pleasure. But it didn't really give his partner much, he imagined and Booker did so like to please.

Back in the moment he tried to move with Nicky but he fairly well pinned. Nicky had a lot of strength for being such a slim man.

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The change that came over Booker's face was beautiful and Nicky smiled down at him, stilling his movements so that he could reach up to gently stroke his lover's beard.

Joe was the poet. Nicky showed his love with his eyes and his touches and his deeds. He certainly hoped that the message was coming through loud and clear now, but just in case he bent to press a kiss against the other man's sternum.

"I love you. You are beautiful." His voice was a little shaky and his eyes were pleasure blown, but he hoped that Booker could still hear and see the truth in them. "You feel so good, Sebastien. Your body is mine and it is perfect." He rolled his hips back, pulling out until just the head of his cock was tugging at Booker's rim, then he snapped back forward, driving himself in hard and deep all at once. "Do you feel that? Feel how you were made to take me like this?"

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When his thoughts were clear and his mind wasn't turned against him Booker could easily see just how much Nicky loved him. More importantly he believed it. There was no insidious voice whispering doubts. There was just Nicky's loving smile and heavenly voice.

Booker would never say it out loud but he really liked Nicky's accent and the way it sounded in the height of passion.

"I feel you," he moaned as he clutched tighter at Nicky's arms. "Definitely made for you."

His English was starting to slip now. He would fall back into his native tongue soon. Especially if Nicky kept up those hard thrusts.

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He could hear Booker's accent getting heavy on his tongue and as much as he liked to pretend that he hated all things French...he actually really enjoyed it. He loved listening to his lover's vowels stretch and twist, hear the strain in his voice when something in English was just a little too much for his sex fuddled brain.

He'd never tell a soul, but he couldn't exactly hide the emotion in his eyes. Not when all his focus was on bringing Booker the most pleasure he possibly could.

He worked him slowly and methodically, leaning hard on his sniper's patience, waiting for that first broken word and the surrender into French....and then he was up on his knees, holding Booker's hips hard in his hands as he went from slow and methodical to hard and fast.

[transfuge]

There were very few people in the world that could bring Booker to this state. And they all happened to be in this house. Booker only felt safe enough to surrender like this with the others. No one else.

Booker begged for release in French and then as Nicky kept pounding at him into Occitan. It flowed so easily when he was lost in pleasure.

And when he did break and come all over himself Booker didn't even need Nicky's hand that he had spent the last five minutes begging for. Which Nicky probably knew which was why he didn't give Booker what he begged for.

Nicky was just the best lover.

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Nicky was not the best lover. He was simply an observant one. He was just as focused and sharp in bed as he was on a job, and the result was that he could dial in on each change in Booker's tone and pleas and be able to respond to them accordingly.

Watching Booker lose himself under him was a beautiful sight and Nicky drank in the sight of him, burning it into his memory so that he'd be able to describe it to Joe later.

His goal accomplished and his control no longer needed, he managed all of three more sharp thrusts before he was bowing to press his forehead against Booker's sternum, his grip on the man's hips hard enough to bruise as he came, Booker's name a haggard cry on his lips.

[transfuge]

Booker slid his hands down Nicky's back and held him close as they both came down from their orgasm induced high. This was the other part Booker really loved. Afterglow. Curled up against his lover catching his breath and just being close.

For all his reluctance and broken thoughts he really truly craved being close to the people he trusted. His affection was buried under years of grief and pain but right now none of those walls were up.

He curled shamelessly against Nicky and made sure he was wrapped around him. Yes, they were sticky and sweaty and gross but Booker did not care. He wanted his cuddles damn it and he would get them.

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They were going to hate themselves in a few hours when they were literally peeling themselves apart, but it was nothing that either of them hadn't dealt with before. A simple shower would solve all their problems, and if Booker was still feeling so indulgent, they could even take one together.

Nicky wrapped his arms around Booker, holding him close and kissing his hair as he waited for his breathing to even back out and for his body to stop trembling quite so much.

"I love you." He breathed the words against the man's hair, shaking his head and sliding his thumb along Booker's lips to keep him from speaking. "Sleep, amour mio. Let me hold you."

[transfuge]

"Love you." Booker turned his head and kissed Nicky's pulse. "You're mad if you think I'm leaving this bed anytime soon."

He closed his eyes though because sleep sounded like a fantastic idea. After an afternoon of lounging in the pool and then fantastic sex really took it out of a man.

And it might mean Nicky would catch a nap as well. The two of them were just the worst when it came to sleep. Except when Booker slept for entire days because he just couldn't be bothered to get out of bed.

Booker drifted off to sleep before he was even aware he was doing it. It just happened which was perfect really.