A/N: This is Part Five of Chapter Two of Thieves in Time.
I don't own these characters, but I do enjoy messing with their lives.
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AND THE FIRE BURNS ON…
Avon drove to his own home without speaking. Vila remained silent as well, remembering his mother's last words to him. He was glad, this time, for the speed Avon pursued. The wind on his face helped dry the tears he'd sworn he wouldn't shed. By the time they'd reached the Alpha sector and the Avon house, he was out of tears and had made a vow never to cry again, not for anyone!
When he'd parked the air car, Avon broke the silence between them. "Father's gone until tomorrow, so it won't matter if you stay tonight."
"Meaning, he probably wouldn't approve, otherwise," Vila said flatly.
"Probably," Avon admitted, looking over at Vila, hunched in his seat. "Come on, Vila, you know how he is. He wouldn't approve of you if you were the son of the Federation president. Besides," he said, giving a wry smile, "I pretty much do as I please so long as I don't embarrass him."
"But I might embarrass him, you know."
"Don't worry about it, Vila. Let's just get you set for the night. We'll let tomorrow take care of itself." With a brief warm clasp on Vila's arm and a flash of a smile in his dark face, Avon left the car.
Vila sat still a moment longer, his eyes following Avon, gathering his will. When the other stopped and looked enquiringly back at the car, Vila shook off his pensive mood, picking up some of his belongings and following Avon into the…well, house didn't really seem appropriate when referring to the Alpha residence Avon shared with his father. Looking around the entrance hall, Vila considered that it was about the same size as his home's living room.
His heart skipped and stuttered at that thought. He didn't have a home anymore, did he? Nor a family, for that matter. All he had now was the dark young man holding the door open for him.
Together, they climbed the wide staircase to the living quarters on the second floor and down a carpeted, art-hung hall, more appropriate for a museum, Vila thought, than a home.
"Here you go." Avon opened the spare bedroom door. He dropped the box of Vila's belongings he was carrying on a carved, padded chair. "My room's next door if you need anything."
Vila entered behind him, adding his box to the other one. Looking around, he took in the large bed, with its rich spread and scattered pillows, the dark, heavy furniture, the real-wood paneling, the painted landscapes on each wall, the thick carpet underfoot. How could such rich trappings be so cold, he wondered, remembering the worn, thread-bare, warm and welcoming living room where his old life had ended that evening.
He raised bleak eyes to Avon's, his head tilted to one side. "There's only one thing I need, Avon, and I don't think either of us is ready for that, do you?"
"No, but I'm glad you're beginning to see it my way." He leaned his shoulders casually against the door frame, crossing his arms. At least that kept him from doing what he really wanted to do. For awhile, anyway.
Vila wandered around the room, running an appraising fingertip along the bedspread. Anything to keep from looking at Avon. He didn't think he would be able to control himself if he did. "Don't have much choice, unless I want to add rape to my rap sheet."
Avon's lips quirked in a grin. "You can't rape the willing." He thrust himself upright, moving after the thief on silent feet.
"Don't tempt me, Avon," he said. He'd reached the heavy bureau on the other side of the room by now, determined to keep some distance between himself and the source of his temptation.
"Maybe I should lock the door to my room?"
Avon's voice purred almost in his ear, startling a small gasp as Vila spun, finding himself inches from Avon. "Wouldn't keep me out and you know it," he said softly, carefully avoiding touching him.
Avon's eyes smouldered. He'd already given up the game, and he had lost. He pulled Vila into a close embrace and kissed him slowly. It ignited a passion in him that Servalan for all her seductiveness had never been able to arouse. "Maybe you'd better lock YOUR door," he murmured, his words tiny hot bursts against Vila's parted lips.
"Why bother? You're almost as good at locks as I am." Vila ran a light finger down Avon's face, then followed the line of his jaw. It felt so good, after all the time he'd spend denying his attraction to Avon, to be able to casually caress him like this, even knowing nothing could come of it, at least tonight. When Avon made up his mind, very little could change it. "It's good night then."
Avon caught Vila's finger, raised and kissed it, slowly releasing the thieves' hand. Backing toward the door, his eyes seemed to be memorizing Vila's every line, like the man was a new territory he meant to learn and conquer. As he reached the door, he paused, one hand on the door frame, for one last intense moment. "Night, Vila, sleep well." He backed into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him.
Inside his own room, Avon fell against his closed door, wiping sweat from his face. His heart was beating so rapidly, he was sure he would suffer cardiac arrest there and then. He closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths, and began to calm himself a little.
Quickly shedding his clothes, he slid beneath the covers, the cool sheets a contrast to his heated body. He waved the bedside light off and lay on his back, thinking about the events of the past evening, events that had changed the course of his life more surely than any he had ever experienced. He wondered what he would say to his father about the break up of his alliance with Counselor Servalan's daughter. It wouldn't matter, really. It was his life to live, not his father's. And if he had to leave the same way Vila had, well, he'd manage to make it on his own, with someone he could care deeply for by his side. That was something new for him to consider, life with someone he wanted to be with, and it gave him a warm feeling.
Without conscious thought, his hand slid down and he began to stroke himself slowly, thinking of the person in the next room. He pumped faster, realizing why his fantasies of Servalan had never aroused him during this act. Now, as he thought of Vila, knowing he was probably engaged in the same activity, he gasped and climaxed far too quickly. "Vila…" he murmured as he continued to smooth his hand up and down…
But the walls were not as thick as one would suppose and he heard Vila's voice through the plaster.
"Avon…please…love me…" A gasp, another, then a groan as Vila too found release.
Silently, Avon wondered just how long he'd be able to hold out before he actually made love to Vila Restal. He swore to himself that it would be when he and Vila were ready and not before. It would certainly not be because someone expected it of them. He would not be manipulated again!
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"Well, it's not much, Avon, but I think I can be comfortable here," Vila told him as they looked over the small apartment Vila had discovered that afternoon.
"Think you can afford it?"
"Of course I can!" Vila reared back, head raised, offended that Avon had no more confidence in his abilities as a thief than that. "I can easily make enough in one night to pay the rent. Everything after that's gravy."
"Look, Vila, let me pay the first month's rent," Avon proposed. "You can call it a loan and pay me back later. I mean, it is sort of my fault that you're in this mess, you know."
"Loan, huh?" Vila chuckled. "Pay you back later? Of course, Avon…with interest." Now that he had a place of his own, the tension he'd felt, having to accept Avon's charity, eased, and the old banter and double entendre was resurfacing.
Avon punched him on the arm with his fist. The apartment was in the Delta sector and they knew better than to show much affection openly. At least with his own place, Vila would have a base of operations, some place to hide in when he needed it, as would Avon, he realized.
"I'll miss seeing your mother, you know," Avon said seriously, as they began to unpack Vila's things. "She was the closest thing to a mother I ever had."
He sighed, turning to accept another pile of clothing from Avon. "I know that, Avon. I bet it will be just as hard for her as it is on us. Who knows, maybe we can arrange a visit now and then, if we're careful to avoid my father."
Avon shook his head and pursed his lips. "I don't think she'll allow it, not as long as your sister is little."
"Probably right," he agreed sadly. Turning to face him, arms bent and braced on his hips, he burst out, "Why is life so hard sometimes? Why can't we just live and be free?"
Vila's eyebrows drew together, two vertical lines appearing between them, making Avon wish he could smooth them away and protect the young man from the harsh realities of the world. "Vila, if I knew the answer to that I'd probably be arrested as a revolutionary."
He huffed a soft laugh at that. "And of course there's not a subversive bone in that gorgeous body, Avon."
"Thank for the compliment, I think," he said, giving a mocking half-bow.
"Com'ere, Avon." Vila moved toward him.
Avon backed away, waving one hand in front of him and shaking his head. "I don't think so, Vila, not right now. Besides, we have a lot of work to do and if we start something else it might end up going further than we planned."
"I love you, Avon," he said simply. At least, it was simple to him. Why couldn't the other man see it like that?
"Vila…don't."
He raised his hands in surrender, moving back. "All right, I'm sorry, it just came out." He stopped moving, his arms fell to his sides, and he gazed directly into Avon's dark eyes. "It's true, though." Avon stilled, seeming to consider Vila's words. For a second, one hopeful second, Vila thought he'd finally gotten through to the man he loved.
"Some day, Vila, I promise, I'll be able to return the words."
Though Vila's shoulders slumped a fraction, he tried to put a hopeful face on it. "Some day, Avon, I just might hold you to it."
After they finished their unpacking, Vila managed a creditable meal that they ate in silence. The rest of the evening they spent just sitting together, holding hands, listening to quiet music.
At last, Avon put an arm around Vila and pulled him closer, cuddling for several satisfying minutes, before he said, "I think perhaps I'd better leave now, Vila. It is getting far too easy to think about not going home at all tonight."
He sighed with resignation. "I wish you would stay, Avon."
"I wish I could." Avon kissed him softly, just brushing his lips over Vila's, before allowing the kiss to become much more serious. He unbuttoned Vila's tunic and slid a hand inside, fingers dancing over the other man's chest, rolling a nipple between his fingertips till it hardened beneath them, then bending to brush his tongue over the hardness.
"Mmmm," Vila moaned. "That feels so good."
"It was meant to," Avon whispered against Vila's chest, pushing him all the way down on the sofa.
"Stay with me tonight, Avon, please…"
"You know that's not possible," Avon gasped, his body thrusting against Vila's. At least, fully clothed, they could move this way without any actual penetration. The day would come when clothes would be in the way and they both knew it. But the friction in itself was enough to at least bring them to completion, albeit a little messier than it would have been otherwise.
"Gods…that's good…" Vila cried as he came.
"Oh yes…" Avon had experienced his own climax at almost the same instant.
Avon lifted himself up off his lover. He gifted his companion with one last kiss. "I think it's time for me to go home." He stood, pulling at his own clothes, arranging them in some semblance of ordinary. Moving to the door, he put his hand on the knob, saying softly, "Take care, Vila. I'll talk to you tomorrow." And left the apartment.
Vila lay quietly on the sofa in a daze of afterglow, falling asleep in his clothes, dreaming of the day when Kerr Avon would be his completely. He wasn't sure he could wait much longer.