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The Power of Love

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Avon stared, red lights flashing, sirens screaming. Surrounded by Federation troops, he looked down. The figure crumpled at his feet was still breathing. But not for long, a voice whispered in his head. You've killed him. As you kill all things that you love. Returning his gaze to the troopers, he raised his gun to fire. At least this is the end. I'm sorry, Blake, for not trusting you. For loving you too much. Avon's grim smile turned to a gasp of pain as the Federation forces fired. He collapsed on his knees, toppling down across the fallen rebel. As consciousness ebbed, he realized that the troops were still firing. Too late, Blake. Your cavalry is too late again. Resting his head against the man he had destroyed, that he loved, Avon let oblivion take him.

±

Blake groaned as he sat up, gingerly feeling his ribs. What could he have possibly done to...

"No. Oh God, Avon!"

Grabbing for a shirt, he jumped to his feet. We're aboard ship, so Deva and the others must have sent out a warning. Racing for the medical unit, he skidded to a stop, bursting into the med center, demanding to know what happened. Deva, sitting quietly, arm in a cast, raised a hand placatingly.

"Calm down, Blake, and sit here. I'll tell you everything while I check you out, everyone else is busy."

Blake grumbled.

"I'm fine, Deva. You know that better than anyone."

His friend's face tightened at the tone of the rebel's voice but he spoke softly, only for his leader's ears.

"I do, but we do not know that your "condition" guarantees immortality, Roj. Those shots were meant to kill."

The burly rebel sat impatiently as his friend looked over his chest, smooth skin where bullet holes had been.

"No scars," Deva marvelled.

"Not on the outside," Blake muttered darkly. "Avon?"

Deva straightened as though for battle.

"He is here, Blake. But he took a lot of punishment. He may not make it."

The rebel's world went black, spinning out of control, and he reached for Deva to steady himself. But nothing could relieve the icy coldness flooding his veins, causing his heart to pound desperately.

"I want to see him."

There was no room for dissent. Deva could see the desperation written on his friend's face. He knew how much Blake cared for his would-be assassin, even if he could not understand it.

"All right. But be careful."

Blake simply shook his head and followed the other man into the intensive care unit. One bed was occupied. The figure lying there was anything but threatening. Pale and wan, Avon seemed to fight for each shallow breath.

"Does he know?"

"That you are alive? Yes. Why you are alive? No."

Blake sighed softly, his gaze returning to the silent figure.

"I won't lose him, Deva."

Deva shivered at the ominous tone of voice. Blake had long ago passed the point of reason where Kerr Avon was concerned. He was obsessed with the dark comp tech. Blake's condition was horrible yet fascinating. Without Avon's tempering presence, would Blake continue to accept it? Or would he shut himself off as Avon once had, refusing to care because he was afraid to lose those he loved? "Do what you must, Roj. You're a good man."

Deva squeezed a powerful shoulder in leaving, as always, amazed by the contrast of the rebel's recuperative powers and his emotional fragility. Blake waited until he was alone, then approached the bed. Bending over, he whispered softly.

"Avon?"

No reply.

Extending his hand, he brushed silky black hair out of Avon's eyes. How to reach him? Perhaps the same words as before but in a different context...a reminder of his trust in the tech.

"It's me, Blake."

Blake held his breath as Avon stirred at the gentle touch. His eyes opened at the familiar words and he stared at the man above him. Blake stood quietly, letting the other man adjust to his presence. His hand had drifted down of its own accord and now clasped Avon's tightly. The smaller man's voice was rough but he made an effort to speak.

"I'm sorry. You must be in a great deal of pain."

Blake frowned at the weakness revealed in Avon's voice and he sat down on the edge of the bed. He opened his mouth to speak but Avon interrupted him, voice filled with pain as emotional as it was physical.

"I should have trusted you but I..." The comp tech's voice broke and he turned his head, unwilling to let the rebel witness his anguish. Gentle hands settled on his shoulders, turning him back to face Blake.

The rebel's eyes had filled with tears, one slowly trailing down a cheek. Avon's own eyes stung but he raised a hand to take Blake's tear, bringing it to his own lips. The bigger man bowed his head.

"Blake, I know I'm dying."

The rebel's gaze was stricken, his voice thick with unshed tears.

"You can't. I won't let you."

A ghostly smile graced Avon's sculpted lips.

"Blake the messiah. I was always a lost cause."

No! I can not lose you. Not now, not ever. I love you. Blake's desperate thoughts were interrupted by the dying man's words.

"What I said before Star One...I never answered your question. No, I do not hate you, Blake. I never did."

Unshed tears glittered on the tech's dark lashes. Blake closed his eyes and gently pressed his lips to the tears, salt to an open wound. He whispered.

"I am so sorry, Avon, for staying away. I...I love you."

He opened his eyes, watching surprised pain and pleasure war on Avon's features. Words failed the smaller man. He simply placed Blake's hand against his heart, his own against Blake's.

"My heart."

So softly spoken, Blake barely heard. But he understood. It's not too late, my love. If you are willing...

Suddenly, Avon withdrew his hand, puzzled surprise written plainly on his features.

"Your chest? No scars, no bandages?"

"Avon." Blake's voice was urgent, drawing the other man's attention back to his face.

"You could not have killed me."

Avon's eyes were pools of confusion.

"What do you mean?"

Blake took a deep breath.

"I am immortal."

Blake waited for questions or disbelief but Avon continued to simply stare. Suddenly he began to laugh hysterically, gasping for breath. In fear, Blake seized him, pulling him protectively against his chest.

"Stop it, Avon. It is true. I can prove it."

Slowly the gasps subsided and Avon pulled back slightly, looking up into Blake's gentle brown eyes.

"Watch me, Avon."

The rebel leader pierced the soft skin of his chest with a sharp fingernail. Avon's eyes widened. Almost instantly, it healed.

"More severe injuries take more time and energy to heal but they eventually do."

Avon's eyes were bright as he gazed into the rebel's.

"You will be safe. You don't need someone to watch your back anymore."

The light words belied the comp tech's pain.

"I can give this to you, Avon. But it is painful and it's forever."

Blake watched the emotions chase across the smaller man's face. Hope vied with uncertainty and not a little fear.

"Do it."  Avon smiled through his pain. "I love you and trust you. Forever is not nearly long enough for me."

Blake's heart swelled in response. The pounding of his own blood rushed through his brain as he leaned over Avon's throat. One hand tangled in the other man's hair, exposing his vulnerable throat. Vision blurring, Blake drove his sharp fangs into the delicate skin of Avon's neck. The comp tech gasped in agony as Blake sucked voraciously, drawing the lifeblood from his victim's body. Agony and ecstasy swirled together as Avon felt consciousness slipping away. So cold, he felt as if he were frozen everywhere but where Blake touched him. Blake's lips were so hot. And his hands, they burned his skin with their fire. Desperately he struggled against the rebel's hold, panic at his apparent helplessness surpassing everything else. His senses were overwhelmed by Blake's presence, powerful arms holding him like a frightened child. His nostrils filled with Blake's heady scent and he gasped out a weak plea.

"Please, Blake."

The devouring lips lifted for a second, bringing a fresh wave of agony.

"Soon, my Avon. Very soon."

Blake smiled down, once more sinking his fangs into Avon's flesh. This time his victim's cry was almost inaudible. Too weak to struggle, Avon gave into the chill seeping through his body. If he was to die now, at least it would be in Blake's arms, by his hand. And it would finally be over. He willingly surrendered his will to the larger man, floating in a drugged stupor, at Blake's mercy. After what seemed like hours, with a massive force of will, the rebel released his victim just before the moment of death. Avon moaned faintly at the white-hot pain of withdrawal, Blake's fangs leaving their mark. Licking the blood from his lips, Blake pressed them to Avon's pale ones, drawing the smaller man back to awareness.

"Half-way there, love."

This time, Blake placed a scalpel against his chest, pricking the flesh deeply. Avon's gaze was hungry, desperate, and his lips parted at the sight, fangs slightly protruding.

"So cold." Avon's voice was very faint.

"Yes, Kerr," Blake whispered, moving to straddle the weakened comp tech. Pulling the dark head to his chest, he whispered, "Let me warm you."

At first, Avon resisted. He could refuse. It would be ended and both of them would be free. No fear of betrayal, no fear of hurting Blake. But the rebel refused to relinquish his captive. As always, he foisted his warmth and caring on his companion, refusing him the cold comfort of death, the peace of the grave. The pressure he exerted on Avon's head forced him to open his mouth to breathe. And Blake's sweet blood, warm and thick, flowed against the comp tech's lips. There was no choice. There was no fear. The desire to drink, to drive away the cold forever, took over and Avon sank his teeth deep in Blake's pliant flesh. Warmth flooded through his veins, bringing a soothing peace to his tortured body. But it was not enough. He wanted, needed more. This was Blake, finally his to possess, to conquer. Control, he savored the thought, as he savored the sweet taste of the rebel's blood. But for a moment, he hesitated, fear for Blake uppermost in his mind. But the rebel's grip never eased and Avon continued to suck.

Gasping, the rebel clenched his teeth against the pain. Not just the pain of broken skin but the agony of blood loss. Damn, it had been so long since he had experienced this. He felt the icy fangs deep in his flesh, cold tendrils racing through his body. His head throbbed with the pounding pressure of his blood, what little heat remaining centering in his groin. The rapture took him again, as it had the first time, with a passionate surrender more powerful than sex had ever been. And it was Avon doing this. Avon mastering him as he had so often wished to master the enigmatic comp tech. Dizzy, his grip on his companion weakened but Avon never faltered. Greedily, he feasted, growing stronger, his body repairing itself at the larger man's expense. But the sturdy rebel remained still, allowing the depletion, surrendering control, until he was almost unconscious. With what little strength remained, he shoved the dark figure away, back against the bed. His blurry vision revealed a shocked expression on Avon's face. And when he tried to stand, he collapsed to the floor, his strength exhausted. Dimly, he realized that Avon was bending over him, urgently calling his name. Too tired. Go away, Avon. I almost finished the job for you. But the comp tech did not leave. He pulled Blake back up onto the bed, concern radiating off him like a heat wave. Blake relaxed into his arms. The warmth of the tech's body soothed his pain, drove away the chill, bringing him an unexpected peace.

"Call Deva," he whispered.

Avon stared for a moment, then did as requested. And Blake knew no more.

±

His head throbbed abominably. And he was thirsty. He sat up, immediately regretting it as his head spun. A hand pressed against his shoulder, easing him back.

"Idiot."

The voice was exasperated but affectionate, startling the rebel into opening his eyes. He was lying on his own bed, in his own cabin. And standing beside him was his own comp tech. And, despite the thundering in his head, Blake was pleased by the sight. Avon looked healthy, most of his pallor gone, replaced by a delicate translucence enhancing the darkness of his eyes. Shrouded once more in black, he held out his hand to Blake. In it was a soft-sided tube.

"Deva explained our requirements to me. I..."drank" when I woke up."

Blake smiled slightly as he took the tube, a little embarrassed and nervous at the other man's presence. He bit down on the edge, feeling the sweet blood fill his mouth, soothing his throat. He sucked until the tube was dry. Turning away, he licked his lips, dropping the empty tube on the table.

"Thank you."

Blake trembled as Avon sat beside him. Brown, troubled eyes met dark, smoky ones. Avon pulled his own shirt away from his shoulder, revealing smooth, unblemished skin.

"No scars."

Without thinking, Blake reached out, stroking lightly across bared skin. "You are so beautiful."

Blake's voice was full of wonder and Avon flushed at his own response. "I must confess that I find you most appealing as well."

Blake looked up in surprise as Avon placed his hand over Blake's, moving it to cover his heart.

"Feel me, Blake. It is your blood pumping through my veins."

The rebel's reply was whispered gently.

"As yours is in mine."

Their gazes locked, mirroring each other's passion. And love. Blake's free hand rested against the smaller man's cheek. "I've needed you so much. Stay with me?"

Avon's eyes were suspiciously bright. "Forever, Blake. You'll never get away from me again."

Avon crushed the big man to him, their strength nearly equal now, molding their bodies together. Blake moaned at the sensation, Avon's thigh pressed tight to his groin, rubbing against his already aching cock. Blake tightened his own grip, slipping his hands down and then up under his soon to be lover's shirt. His touch sent shivers up Avon's spine and he reveled in it, in his new found power over the prickly Alpha. And in the sensual beauty of his companion, the feel of smooth, flawless skin stretched taut over firm muscles. Closing his eyes, he softly brushed his full lips against smooth, sculpted ones, tracing their outline with his tongue. They parted readily and he thrust inside, exploring with the eagerness of one long denied. Avon tasted so sweet, lips so soft. Blake continued to plunder Avon's generous mouth until the invader was seized by sharp white teeth. He held perfectly still as Avon bit down slightly, causing a sharp pain, then releasing and sucking softly.

Avon reveled in sensation. His newly sensitive body was electrified by Blake's every caress. He felt the power of the larger man, constrained by care, but no longer mistrusted it. Blake had given him a stronger power, over the rebel's own soul. Blake needed him as much as he needed the charismatic rebel. He welcomed Blake's show of strength, matched it, exerting his own control over both their passions. The taste of Blake's sweet blood on his tongue drove him wild and he ground down against Blake, letting the big man feel his excitement, his desire. Blake's blood was more potent than any drug, sweet as candy, as intoxicating as the headiest wine. His own blood pounded in his veins, his excitement centering in his groin, pulsing. He wanted, needed Blake now. He moaned softly, pressing his groin hard against the rebel's muscular thigh.

Both men were panting as they broke apart. With a challenging stare, Avon stood, shedding his shirt and pants. Blake stared, unbearably aroused by the sight of Avon's excitement. The tech was so beautiful, pale skin shadowed by dark hair, his body slimmer than Blake's but elegantly muscled. He reached out, brushing fingertips across Avon's chest, planting a soft kiss on each nipple before raising his head.

Avon shivered at the rebel's devouring gaze. Offering a hand to his companion, he pulled him to his feet. The rebel's chest was already bare, shining with sweat, so Avon's hands went to the baggy pants, yanking them down past Blake's knees and allowing the rebel to step free before drawing him back to the bed. He paused for a moment, admiring the play of heavy muscles. Blake's powerful thighs did nothing to distract from the sight of his arousal, larger than most and achingly erect. 

"Love you, Avon," Blake whispered breathlessly, leaning over to press kisses along the other man's cheek, down his neck, and across his chest. Gently, he touched them to Avon's once more, tasting Avon, tasting himself on Avon's so sensual lips. Avon arched into the touches. Starved for affection, he craved Blake's desire. Unable to wait, the slender comp tech spread his knees, allowing the husky rebel access. Open longing on his face, Blake stroked his generous hands along Avon's trembling thighs, the skin silky-soft to his hardened hands. Avon shivered at his gentle touch, hands reaching out threading through the husky rebel's soft curls, feeling them slip against his fingers. Tightening his grip on the silken threads, he tried to pull the head up. Blake simply ignored the slight pain, anything Avon did to him felt good. He breathed softly, the warm air caressing his lover's cock, engorged to the point of pain. Avon groaned at the exquisite sensation. Blake's warm breath surrounding him, owning him, stiffening him. It was agony. It was wonderful. Avon opened his eyes as the curly head pulled free of his grasp and he felt his cock enclosed. Blake's tongue caressed him, stroking his shaft, teeth sharp at the head as he pulled back then plunged down.

"Blake, please," Avon gasped. It was too much, better than ever before. His heightened senses reacting to the slightest stimulation with almost painful sensitivity.

The rebel ignored his companion's muttered pleas, focusing on the smooth, hard shaft he sucked. Keeping up the steady suction, one hand quested further, probing between muscled cheeks. Damp with sweat, it found easy passage, slipping inside, exploring. Another joined it, widening the opening, preparing him. And Blake marvelled at the velvet softness, clinging to his fingers as though unwilling to release him. Blake sucked hard, withdrawing his fingers, then pulled back once more, blowing softly at the tip, amazed by his effect on the other man. Avon was thrashing on the bed, head tossing from side to side, hands clenched tightly in the sheets. The comp tech moaned, locking his legs around the rebel's back, trying to draw him closer.

"Wait, love," Blake panted. "We need something."

At his companion's puzzled look, Blake sighed.

"Yes. We can still feel pain as well as pleasure and I do not intend to hurt you ever again."

Blake seized a tube from his night stand but before he could open it, Avon grabbed it. Flipping the cap, he squirted a generous amount into his palm. The rebel gasped and almost fell, bracing himself against his lover's hips, as two strong hands enclosed his throbbing penis, coating it liberally with the cool viscous gel. It was indecent, the control Avon held over his body. And my heart. He shivered at the sensations created by Avon's nimble fingers, his erection impossibly hard, begging for release.

"Stop."

Avon removed his hands with a smile and lay back arms spread wide, holding himself open, trusting in the man, the vampire, who possessed him. Blake looked beautiful to the tech, pale skin stretched taut over the hairless chest, eyes bright, not with the fever of rebellion, but with him. Aroused beyond reason, all but Avon was forgotten in his passion. Heart pounding, that same man slid his hands under Avon's hips, lifting his legs to rest against broad shoulders. His hands braced beside his lover's head, he stared deep into dark, turbulent eyes and felt himself lost. The feeling was the same as when Avon had taken from him. Blake's mind swirled away and he knew only what his body felt. And his heart. The warmth of Avon's skin beneath him, the silky texture of the hair on his chest, the musky scent of his skin, drove him beyond conscious thought. Two sharp thrusts and he was ensheathed, held captive by his own victim. There was no sign of pain on the smaller man's face, only an expression of pure pleasure. Still, some semblance of sanity made him hesitate. One hand reached up, threading through Blake's dark curls.

"It's all right, Blake. Move. Let me feel your love."

Avon's voice was soft and the pleading in his eyes roused Blake's protective tenderness. He thrust carefully but deeply, lips caressing his aristocratic lover's face as his own body was being caressed inside Avon. His lover's muscles gripped him tightly, each thrust building towards incredible tension.

"You feel so good," Blake panted, feeling the tension not only in himself but in the body of his lover. Angling Avon's body just so, Blake thrust down deeply, knowing this angle would drive his cock against the tech's prostate. Avon bucked at each thrust, fresh sweat breaking out across his body. Blake was fantastic. Nothing he had ever experienced before, no woman, had ever done this to him, made him feel this way. His hands slipped round broad shoulders, pulling the rebel's head down for a searing kiss that left them both panting harshly. Transferring his weight to one arm, Blake slipped a hand between their bodies, pumping Avon's organ with each thrust. Avon gasped at the intensity of pleasure, squirming beneath the larger man. Blake was in him, on him, surrounding him, protecting, with his body and his love. He felt possessed but safe, Blake wrapped around him, pleasuring him, pleasuring them both. Arching up, Avon tried to get even closer, to take all of the rebel that he could. Blake needed this union as much as he. Too much, the pleasure was too much for his hypersensitive nerves. His blood throbbed to the pulse of Blake's hand on his cock, the rhythm of his cock up his ass. His fingers dug into Blake's shoulders and he screamed in release, his pleasure spilling over the hand that milked him. Blake admired the beautiful display, so happy to have given Avon such pleasure. Then he too was lost in a tidal wave of release, Avon's contractions seizing his cock, white-hot passion thieving his mind, helplessly whimpering his lover's name.

Awareness returned slowly to both men. Blake had collapsed beside the smaller man, one arm thrown possessively across Avon's chest. Avon rolled against the rebel, pillowing his head on Blake's broad chest. Blake tilted his head to breathe in his lover's spicy scent and to press a kiss on his aristocratic nose. A slim hand yanked at an errant curl, tangling itself in that chaos. Blake grinned, freeing his lover's hand from his hair and bringing it to his lips. He opened his mouth to speak but Avon placed two fingers there.

"No words, Roj. Not yet."

Blake nodded his acceptance, wrapping his arms tightly around the man he had waited two years for. The same man who used to look at him with scorn and now gazed at him with passionate love. Whose head was pillowed on the rebel's silken chest.

"I love you, Kerr."

Avon's grip tightened and Blake felt his smile against his skin.

"Well you should. We are both blood thirsty bastards now."

The words were gently ironic, their owner's harsh voice had softened, but Blake still flinched at their reality. I'm a selfish bastard, forcing you to join me in this. Avon felt the involuntary response, levering himself up to stare deep into the rebel's brown eyes. You are an idiot, Blake. I have never felt more at peace than I do now.

"I know you love me, Roj. I...feel the same way."

"My heart, Kerr," Blake whispered, laying his hand against Avon's cheek.

This time Avon's voice held only wonder as he pressed his head to Blake's chest, feeling the warmth of his lifeblood.

"Your heart and mine."

 

"and I thought that anything for the cause is worth the price

(losing you was the sharp edge of the knife)

now no more fear, the way is clear

I know you are the power in my life

so better late than never

'cause this heart is yours forever"

 

The power of love by Rick Springfield