Never Too Late
by TKB 1999

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Dorian Red Gloria/Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach from

Yasuko Aoike's "From Eroica With Love" manga comic. All standard disclaimers apply.

Warnings: Minor hurt/comfort, some mild angst, sex between two guys. If that squicks you, please leave.

Send feedback to: isilwath (at) comcast (dot) net (Make the obvious changes)

Never Too Late
by TKB 1999

"Maybe you can't, Major, but they won't give a whit about a civilian thief!" he heard Lord Gloria say as he was passed by a blur of red and golden curls.

He watched in stunned disbelief as Dorian raced ahead and tackled Prescovich before he could cross the Serbian border. The situation was all too unreal to him, and smacked of a similar mission many years ago where Dorian had engaged a foreign operative on a bridge over the Danube on Klaus' behalf, getting himself beaten to a pulp in the process. The circumstances were no different then as they were now. Prescovich was the same height and build as Molozov had been, many times larger and stronger than the English lord, yet just as he had attacked Molozov, Dorian went after him with all the tenacity of a terrier attacking a Great Dane. And just as before with Molozov, Prescovich beat back the terrier with mighty blows, squashing Dorian into the ground and running for the border. Klaus thought he heard the agent laughing and he gritted his teeth in impotent rage.

For a moment, Dorian lay utterly still on the paved road, and a nameless fear crept up Klaus' spine. Then he saw the thief weakly try to rise and heard the pain-filled moan. Immediately, he was by Dorian's side, helping him to stand and supporting him. He spared a glance at the Earl's face: cracked lip, cut and bleeding, scrape on one cheek from the pavement- nothing serious. Most of Prescovich's heavy punches had fallen lower, on Dorian's chest and abdomen. The thin man must be one big bruise. He felt a shiver of sympathy and not a little gratitude for Dorian's efforts. He wondered if, as with Molozov, Dorian had been successful in spite of the beating he received, but there Dorian had given him the microfilm immediately. This time Dorian was making no such offering.

Maybe because he's too busy trying to stand, he scolded himself.

Dorian moaned, calling his attention back to the man next to him.

"Are you all right?" he asked solicitously.

"Yes," came the slow reply. "Remind me to stop doing this type of thing for you, Major. I'm getting too old for it."

Even though Klaus had been promoted to Colonel two years ago the thief still called him Major.

"Don't say such things. You are not old," he snapped back. If Dorian was getting old, then so was he, and he didn't want to think about that.

Dorian's answer was a non-committal grunt followed by a hiss of pain.

"Here," he offered gently, "Lean on me. We'll be at the car soon."

"Thank you, Major," Dorian answered with a sigh, letting Klaus take more of his weight.

Klaus half expected the Earl to now make a pass, that was what he usually did when Klaus was within touching distance, but he did not. That had been the more recent pattern over the past eight years. While Dorian never missed a chance to profess his love, indeed he'd been saying it for the better part of three decades, his physical advances had been tapering off. Now his more overt overtures seemed to be for the benefit of others, usually to throw off suspicion or act as a distraction more than anything else, but when they were alone, Dorian was almost what could be considered to be chaste- for him.

He was silent as they got to the car. He released Dorian, leaning him against the side of the Benz so he could open the door. Then he offered a hand to the Earl to help him into the car. Dorian lowered himself into the seat with a groan, but as Klaus moved to step back, to go to the driver's side, the slender hand snaked out and grabbed his wrist, just low enough to be hidden from the watching border guards by his body.

"Ero..."

Blue eyes met his with fierce intensity and he looked down at his hand. Dorian's fingers were positioned in the Victory sign. Almost disbelieving, he pulled his wrist from Dorian's grasp and swept his palm under the Earl's. With a satisfied little plunk, the microfilm dropped into his waiting hand. He spared a smile and swallowed a laugh as he clandestinely placed the precious film into his pocket and closed the passenger side door.

Hurrying to the driver's side, he leaped into the seat and started the car. He knew it would only be a matter of time before Prescovich realized that the film was missing, and he had to get the microfilm to NATO. If he drove fast, they could be in Munich by late evening. They could stay at the safe house he knew was there and leave for Bonn early in the morning.

The car hit a pothole as he spun the tires and the Earl let out a gasp.

"Lord Gloria?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

"S'ok, Major, just... try not to hit every pothole along the way, please?"

"I'm... I'm sorry, Lord Gloria. I will try to be more careful."

"Thank you," the Earl answered with a sigh.

After a moment or two he offered, "I have some aspirin in the glove box. It'll help with the swelling."

He saw Dorian rummage in the box for the aforementioned bottle and tap four white pills into his palm. Keeping one eye on the road, he offered what was left of his coffee to the Earl. The Earl took the cup, popped the pills into his mouth and chased them with a gulp of cold coffee. He half expected Dorian to complain about the lack of cream and sugar, but the thief made no comment. He handed the cup back to Klaus, and Klaus finished it off then threw the empty cup into the back seat.

"Put your seat down," he said. "It will recline and you'll be more comfortable. You can rest until we get to Munich."

"We're going all the way to Munich?"

Klaus grimaced at the strained voice. "I'm sorry, but yes. Prescovich will discover that you stole the microfilm from him and he will send agents after us. There is a safe house in Munich we can go to. We can sleep there, then we must leave for Bonn; I must deliver this microfilm to NATO as soon as possible."

"I understand. Yes, it would not be good if we were to be caught, would it."

"No. So I am sorry, but we must get to Munich. I will get us there as quickly as possible."

He saw the blond head nod as the passenger seat lowered and Dorian reclined. He stepped heavier on the gas and headed for the nearest main road, wincing in sympathy at every bump unavoided. Dorian bore any bumps in silence, except for the especially large ones, and even then he only whimpered. Klaus consoled himself with the knowledge that he would tend to Dorian's injuries with his own special sore-muscle salve and a massage once they were safely in Munich.

"Thank you," he said after a while.

"For what?" Dorian answered.

"For getting the microfilm."

"I am a professional," the Earl replied.

"Yes," he agreed, speeding up as they joined a highway. "Still, you saved a lot of lives today."

The Earl was silent for a moment, then spoke softly, "The only one I was interested in saving was yours."

He cast an uncomfortable glance at the thief, but said nothing.

"I know you don't love me, Klaus," Lord Gloria continued. "But I love you. I love you very much, and your continued health and existence is very important to me. You really frightened me this time, Klaus. I was so worried for you."

That shocked him and he looked full at the Earl. Blue eyes met his from under the cascade of curls.

"Why?"

"Because you were dealing with true killers this time," came the answer.

"What do you mean?"

"These people, Klaus... no matter how many lives that microfilm will save, thousands will still die. They're not killing for a reason anymore. They forgot a long time ago why they are fighting. Now they kill simply because it's what's done. It's a Blood Feud, Klaus. You should know about Blood Feuds."

He was surprised by the usually frivolous Earl's insight. Once again, Dorian had proven to him that the Earl was anything but stupid.

"Yes," he agreed tightly, gripping the wheel.

"At least when we were against the KGB, we knew what we were dealing with. Mischa and Polar Bear were Communists, yes, but they had honor. These people have no honor, Klaus; they're just men filled with hate. God only knows what they would have done to you if you were captured," Dorian added.

"Is that why you followed me? Because you were worried I'd be captured?" he demanded angrily.

"Yes."

"Do you have so little faith in my abilities? Do you think I am getting too old to be out in the field?!"

He saw Dorian hasten to reassure him. "No, Klaus, never that. You are the strongest, most capable man I know. I would never doubt your abilities. It's just that these men are so unpredictable and the danger was so great... and I could not bear it if anything happened to you." He said the last softly, with a hint of fear.

He growled but calmed down, concentrating on the road.

"You concern is... appreciated but unnecessary. I am perfectly capable of handling myself in a hostile situation," he replied. "You, however, are an untrained civilian. You should not be following me into danger."

"I got the microfilm for you, didn't I?"

He swallowed hard. It was the truth, but he did not have to like it "Yes."

"I've learned a lot from you, Major. I'm much better in 'hostile situations' than I used to be. Besides, everybody thinks I'm harmless."

The admission surprised him. "That is because you are such a frivolous fop."

The gleam in the blue eyes spoke of silent laughter. "Exactly."

"Go to sleep. We have a long drive to Munich and you are injured. You should rest," he ordered.

"Yes, Major," Dorian answered, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

They did not speak again and he found himself speeding for the Hungarian border while Dorian slept uneasily beside him. He used the time to scrutinize and digest what the Earl had told him.

Twenty-five years had passed since he and Eroica had first crossed paths, and the Earl had proven to be one of the few people who had stayed with him. Many of his alphabet had gone on to better, less stressful jobs, except Z of course, who seemed almost as devoted to him as Dorian; and his chief had finally retired, but not before making sure Klaus would never be made section head or promoted above the rank of Colonel. So much had happened. The Cold War was over. The Berlin Wall was torn down. The Iron Curtain was lifted, but only caused old clan feuds to begin again. The Soviet Union as he knew it was no more.

One by one the things he accepted as truths crumbled around him. He was still single, with no wife and no heir, a fact that dismayed his butler to no end, especially after Klaus' father had died. He had tried for several years to set Klaus up with prospective spouse material, but all of his efforts had ended badly. Now, the butler was resigned to his master's perpetual bachelorhood, but he was sullen and their relationship was strained. Klaus knew the old man would die soon.

Slowly, most of the people he would consider his friends had retired and moved away. Even that irritating SIS Agent Lawrence had turned in his James Bond gadgets for a set of high-tech golf clubs and a sports car. Only Z remained, and Dorian. Always Dorian, who had the odd knack of showing up when he was least wanted but most needed. Dorian, who tackled a bear of a man almost half his age without a second thought because he had something Klaus needed to fulfill his mission. Such loyalty and tenacity was rare, and had earned Dorian the Major's grudging respect. And Dorian loved him. Dorian still loved him, after all these years.

Just my fucking luck that the only person who loves me is a fucking foppish queer!

He glanced over at the sleeping Earl. The headlights from oncoming cars briefly lit up the golden curls that haloed Dorian's face. Even at close to fifty, Dorian's mane of hair was still thick and lustrous. He frowned at the bruise that had formed around the scrape on the Earl's cheek, and the bloodied cut lip. But it could have been worse.

He could have been killed. Brainless idiot.

The thought of Dorian hurt or dying caused his heart to spasm suddenly, and he felt a moment of utter dread before he pushed it away. Somehow, the thought of Dorian not being in his life seemed almost too much to bear. It would be like the earth he stood upon suddenly falling out from beneath him. No matter what else happened to him in his life, he knew he could always count on Lord Gloria to be there, and to be his usual intolerable self. If Dorian was one day not there... He pushed the thought away with a violence that surprised him. No, no matter what, Dorian would always be there. Like death and taxes, Dorian was an unavoidable truth. His train of thought disturbed him greatly so he returned his attention to the road and concentrated on driving.

Close to 21:00, after driving like a madman and thankful that Dorian slept through most of it, Klaus guided the car into the parking lot of the safe house in Munich after making a brief stop to get the keys. Tomorrow he'd take them both to Bonn, but right now he was tired, hungry and Dorian was hurt. And he still had to salve Dorian's injuries and give him that massage. He woke Dorian as he parked the car. The Earl moved stiffly, probably due to the fact that sleeping in a car did nothing to help his bruises. He grabbed his suitcase from the car's trunk and ushered the thief up to the apartment. Dorian must have had luggage somewhere but it was left behind in whatever place he had secured in Hungary. The Earl had never told him how he had managed to follow him.

The accommodations were sparse but comfortable. It was a one-bedroom apartment with a large bed and a well-appointed bathroom. Klaus immediately decided to let Dorian have the bed, but after a shower and food. He tossed his suitcase on the bedside table while Dorian watched and pulled out a pair of his sweat pants.

"Here," he said, handing the Earl the soft clothing. "Go take a shower. Make the water as hot as you can stand and let it run over your bruises. Then put these on and come out. I have something that will help with the pain."

Dorian stood in the bedroom for a moment, owlishly blinking at the pants in his hands until Klaus snapped at him.

"What are you waiting for? Go shower! I will call for food to be delivered while you wash."

His angry bark jolted Dorian out of his stupor and he watched the blond walk slowly to the bathroom. The Earl gave him a strange look then went in and closed the door behind him. He waited until he heard the sound of the water turning on before looking through the phone directory to find a delivery place that was still open. Once food was ordered, he dug into his suitcase again for the jar of powder he knew was there. When mixed with water, the powder became a thick salve that was excellent for easing bruised flesh. He made the mixture himself from a recipe his father had given him when he was at boarding school and had pulled one too many muscles playing soccer. He retrieved a bowl from the safe house kitchen and mixed some of the powder with water he heated in the microwave. Then he waited, and waited, and waited. Dinner arrived. Klaus set the table and doled out portions of food onto two plates.

Dorian was still in the shower. Finally, on the verge of losing his temper, he pounded on the bathroom door.

"Eroica! Are you trying to drown yourself? Dinner is here. Come out now!"

"Sorry," came the soft reply. "I'll be out in a minute."

He stood at the door until he heard the water turn off and the sounds of the Earl drying himself. The thief emerged in a billow of steam a few moments later, towel wrapped around his shoulders and Klaus' sweatpants on. They were a size too big and he'd drawn the drawstring tight to keep them on. Klaus winced when he saw the large, discolored patches on Dorian's chest and ribs.

"C'mon. Dinner is getting cold," he said, leading the way to the table.

"Chinese Take-Away?" the Earl asked, seeing the meal Klaus had ordered.

"It was the only thing open. Now sit."

Dorian did as ordered and lowered himself into a chair. Klaus walked behind him, noting that the thief had even more bruises on his back. He picked up the bowl of salve and a rubber band from the counter, and handed the band to the Earl.

"Put up your hair."

Dorian looked at him. "Why?"

"Because I don't think you want to get this smeared in it."

The thief looked at the bowl he was holding. "What is it?"

"A salve for your bruises."

The Earl pulled the bowl close to his face and sniffed. "Hmmm. Mustard... and cayenne... and hmmm. I make something similar."

"It is good for sore muscles."

Dorian nodded and swept his curls up into a knot on the top of his head, groaning as his muscles protested the action.

"Good, now eat while I do this."

"Yes, Major."

Using his hands, Klaus spread the salve over Dorian's bruised flesh. Then he soaked kitchen towels in hot water and draped the damp towels over the salved areas.

"The heat will make the salve penetrate the deep muscle layers," he explained at Dorian's questioning look.

The Earl nodded and Klaus finished, complete with a quick inspection for broken bones.

"I do not think you have any cracked ribs," he announced, sitting down to his own meal.

"No. I've had cracked ribs before. My ribs hurt, but they don't hurt like that," Dorian answered.

"I think you will be fine, just sore for a few days."

Dorian nodded again, agreeing with him.

They finished the meal in silence, then Klaus cleared the plates and used the wet towels to wipe the salve off Dorian's skin. Dorian stood and walked to the closet, looking in it.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Looking for sheets to make up the couch," Dorian replied.

"You'll do no such thing. You will be sleeping on the bed. I will take the couch. Besides, I am not finished with you yet."

Dorian looked surprised. "You're not?"

"No. Now go into the bedroom and lie down. I'll be in momentarily."

The Earl gave him another odd look, then obeyed, disappearing into the bedroom without comment. Less than a minute later, he joined Dorian in the bedroom. The thief had done as ordered and was lying on his stomach on the bed. He reached into his suitcase for the massage oil.

"What are you going to do?" Dorian's voice asked him, just slightly tinged with uncertainty.

"I am going to give you a massage," he answered matter-of-factly.

"A massage?"

"Yes. This massage oil will also help the pain," he answered, sitting down on the bed.

He pulled off the bottle cap and heard Dorian sniff.

"Mmm. Eucalyptus."

"And peppermint," he added, pouring a small amount of oil into his hands to warm it.

"Do you make it yourself, Major?"

"No. I buy it from a shop in Munich," he said, beginning to massage Dorian's shoulders.

"Mmm, you must give me the name of the shop sometime."

"I will try to remember to give you the address," he stated.

"Thank you, Major."

It was silent again as Dorian relaxed and Klaus massaged him. In truth he did not know quite what to say to the Earl should the man ask him what his motivations were, and he was very glad that Dorian was being uncharacteristically quiet. He tried not to think as he ran his hands over the sensitive flesh. Dorian's skin was soft and pale, only making the bruises all the more ugly.

"Thank you for helping me like this, Major," Dorian whispered quietly.

"You risked your life to get the microfilm. This is the least I can do for you," he replied stiffly.

"Still... I'm very grateful, Major."

"It's not a problem."

They fell quiet, and Klaus kept up the massage, running his hands smoothly over Dorian's skin. Dorian seemed to relax completely under the attention, almost falling asleep, and Klaus found himself oddly warmed by the amount of trust the Earl was placing in him. He smiled, glad that his hands were causing someone pleasure for once. The silence was comfortable. Dorian wasn't making a pass, wasn't chattering on about foppish bullshit. He was just lying there quietly, letting Klaus massage him, letting him explore the smooth planes of his back, neck and shoulders. It was pleasant, comforting almost. Klaus found that he was enjoying it. Dorian's skin was soft and warm, and smelled faintly of soap. His damp curls were spread out on the mattress, drying and they smelled of shampoo. Klaus let himself be sucked in by the rhythm of his hands timed with Dorian's breathing.

After long moments, he gave the thief a gentle pat.

"Mm?"

"Turn over and I'll do your ribs," he said amicably.

There was a pause, then Dorian replied, "No there's no need to do that, Major. I'm feeling much better already and I'm so comfortable."

"It's no trouble."

"No really, it's fine."

"I said it's no trouble," he insisted, becoming irritated. Did Dorian not like his massage?

"Major..."

"Turn over," he ordered.

Dorian sighed. "You really don't want me to, Major."

"Why the Hell wouldn't I? Don't you like my massage?"

"Far from it," the Earl murmured slowly. "I like it very much."

"Then what is your problem, you stupid queer? Turn over."

Slowly, Dorian obeyed and Klaus soon understood the reason for the Earl's protests. The thief was highly aroused, his erection obviously tenting the crotch of the sweatpants. Dorian flushed and placed one hand to cover the offending bulge.

"I see," he said.

"I'm sorry, Major. I can't help myself," Dorian explained.

"You become aroused from massages?"

"No. Not usually. But... I love you, Major, and being touched by you makes me react. Especially when the touch is so wonderful, and you're being so gentle with me. I can't help it."

Dorian gave a small, sheepish smile. Klaus blinked at him.

"You react this way to... to my touch?"

Dorian looked away. "Not always. I've gotten better at controlling it over the years. Usually I can prevent my body from reacting, but tonight I'm tired and hurting and you're being so kind to me."

He was certain that Dorian expected him to be angry, and he did not know who was more surprised, Dorian or himself, when he realized that he was not. But the admission brought some of the Earl's recent actions into a whole new light.

"Is that why you stopped making passes at me?"

Dorian nodded. "Yes. I had to stop. It wasn't a game to me any more. It was different when I was... playing, but then... I just couldn't do it anymore."

Silence fell again and remained until Dorian shifted uncomfortably and moved to get out of bed.

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

"I... I should go," the Earl answered softly.

"Nein. You will stay here."

Dorian looked at him with such sadness in his eyes. "I really can't stay, Major."

Klaus glared at him, using his anger to hide the fear that if the Earl left now, he'd never see him again.

"There is no reason for you to leave. I am not... offended," he managed.

Dorian gave him a wary, sidelong glance, his curls falling haphazardly over one eye. Klaus lost his temper and grabbed the Earl by the arm, forcing him back down to the bed. Dorian gave a gasp of surprise and pain as his back hit the mattress and he was immediately contrite.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

Dorian did not answer. He merely stared at him in wide-eyed shock. He frowned. The thief was afraid of him right now and he did not like how that made him feel.

"There is no need to fear me. I will not hurt you," he assured evenly.

Dorian did not look convinced. Apparently the thief remembered all the times Klaus had hurt him. He sighed heavily, then looked at Dorian's naked chest, mottled with dark bruises, and an idea formed in his head. The rational part of him screamed in protest at his thoughts, but he was not interested in being rational. Right now one of the two people who had stayed with him through the years, whom he had come to depend upon and trust, was hurting and frightened of him. After the long day and the dangerous mission and the fact that Dorian had risked his life once again on his behalf, fear was the last thing he wanted to incite in the Earl. He reached out with one oiled hand and stroked the tender skin.

"Klaus..." Dorian gasped.

"Like this?" he questioned.

The Earl shook his head ever so slightly, but Klaus saw him dig his fingers into the sheets.

"Klaus, please... I have no defenses against you right now. You've stripped me of all my armor. I can't..."

"Shut up," he commanded, but without heat. "I told you, I am not going to hurt you."

Apparently the Earl thought it best to obey, and remained quiet as Klaus began to caress his ribs and shoulders. He could feel the tension in Dorian's body, sense the tremors that ran in ripples under his fingers as he massaged and stroked the Earl. Sparing a glance, he saw that the thief had squeezed his eyes shut, teeth biting his lip to keep from making noise. The picture shocked him, and at first he thought the Earl was shaking with terror, until his saw the tent in the crotch of the sweatpants and knew the Earl was trying to fight his arousal.

The knowledge astounded him. No one. Absolutely no one, had ever reacted to his touch the way Dorian was reacting now. Every brush of his fingers, no matter how light, caused the Earl's body to shudder. It was electric, thrilling in its novelty. No woman he had ever been with had ever responded so eagerly or profoundly to his caresses. The wooden touches he gave because he thought it was expected of him, never elicited even a fraction of the response that his tentative ones were now. It flabbergasted him and excited him without his really knowing why.

He stopped massaging and started running his fingers over the Earl's flesh, marveling at how it quivered, prickling out into gooseflesh as he touched it. He saw the nipples of the Earl's breasts become hard and flushed, but he avoided them, opting instead to touch just about everywhere else that was laid open to him until Dorian was trembling uncontrollably, tears leaking out from his tightly shut eyes, tiny whimpers escaping from his clenched teeth. The entire scene gave him a heady sense of power. He had complete control over the man who had tormented him for years, and it was wonderful.

"K... Klaus..." he heard Dorian choke. "Klaus... if you don't stop now, I'm going to soil your sweatpants."

But Klaus didn't want to stop. He was enjoying this feeling far too much. Even his body was reacting, and he looked down to see his own arousal pressing against the seam of his jeans. In response to Dorian's plea and warning, he pulled the drawstring of the sweatpants loose and lowered the material down, freeing the Earl's erection. The hard cock sprang out, wet with pre-ejaculate, and he heard the Earl's shocked cry.

"There," he said, gently. "Now you won't."

He looked at Dorian and saw his wide, amazed eyes, swimming with unshed tears.

"Klaus..."

"Don't talk," he answered, and resumed his caressing.

The scent of musk and arousal wafted up into his nostrils as the Earl dropped his head to the bed and squeezed his eyes shut once again. In moments, he had the Earl writhing, choking on his little cries of pleasure as he tried not to climax. But Klaus was not about to allow that to happen. No, this power was too sweet and too exhilarating, and the smell of Dorian's sex was feeding his own arousal. It had been years since he had spent the night with anyone but his own hand to keep him company.

Smiling evilly to himself, he allowed his hands to brush over the taut nipples, reveling in Dorian's cry and shudder. The Earl's erection bounced, straining, and his own throbbed in sympathy. He did it again, feeling Dorian's body jolt as if it had been shocked. He heard the Earl's nails scrape harder against the sheets.

"K..." Dorian tried.

Another sweep over the hard breasts.

"K... Kl..."

"Hm?" he questioned knowingly, rubbing his fingers around the nipples in teasing circles.

"Kl..."

He pinched the nipples mercilessly. Dorian's body jerked upwards, his head flying back, spine arching.

"Klaus!"

He pinched them again, and with a cry, Dorian came- explosively, splattering semen all over his stomach. Klaus could not describe the wicked sense of triumph he felt in that moment, seeing the Earl's face as he came, feeling the trembling body under his hands, smelling the strong scent of semen as it hit the air. He felt invincible, all powerful, and his own rock hardness ached in his groin.

Dorian was shuddering, gasping for breath as he released his grip on the Earl's breasts. He ran one finger through the pool of semen on Dorian's stomach, looking at it. He saw the Earl open his eyes, pupils still dilated, and smiled wryly.

"Just as I thought," he stated. "No stamina."

Dorian's eyes contracted, then he closed them and turned his head away, still trying to quell his shaking. Klaus stared at him, wondering if Dorian really didn't know that he was just teasing. Frowning, he left the bed long enough to pick up the towel Dorian had used to dry his hair from the floor, and used it to wipe up the semen from the Earl's skin. Then he went to retrieve a wet washcloth from the bathroom, and when he returned, he found Dorian curled on the bed, weeping.

"Lord Gloria?" he questioned, settling back on the mattress, one hand on the Earl's side.

Dorian shook his head and for a moment Klaus was afraid that he had physically hurt the thief. He was, after all, still badly bruised.

"Are you hurt?" he asked worriedly.

Dorian did not answer. He only sobbed harder.

"Dorian?"

He tried to turn the man over so he could see his face, but the Earl shrugged him off.

"Don't touch me, please," came the tear-filled plea.

"Why not?"

The Earl shook his head again and resumed sobbing, curling even further into himself. Klaus, dumbfounded, grew angry.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! You should be happy! You finally got what you wanted!" he snapped, tossing the damp wash cloth to the floor.

"No! You've ruined everything!" Dorian cried back.

"What do you mean? Explain yourself."

Dorian turned over to look at him, his face splotched with tears. "You took the choice from me. You made me come. You forced it from my body until I couldn't deny you any longer. I was helpless against you. And when I was at my most vulnerable, you crushed me!" he sobbed.

Klaus shook his head. "No," he denied. Was Dorian accusing him of rape?

"What is worse is you felt nothing in it! It was nothing to you! You were Iron Klaus, unmovable and untouchable! You took my love and my fantasy and smashed it under your indomitable boot!"

"Nein! Nein!" he insisted, then grabbed Dorian's hand and pressed it to his throbbing crotch. "It was not nothing!"

He gasped as he felt the Earl's hand squeeze him through his jeans and stared in amazement as the smaller man thrust him back, slamming him to the bed with a strength he never realized the Earl had.

"Let me! Let me, please!" he heard Dorian beg, fingers scrambling at the zipper of his jeans.

"Dorian..."

"Let me, just this once, please! You've taken everything from me! Give me this!"

The zipper was ripped down and hands dove into his jeans, grasping his cock and pulling it out. It was hot and swollen, and the cool air hitting it caused him to shudder. Dorian's fingers were like claws as they gripped him, and he barely had enough time to register the Earl's intentions before the hot mouth swallowed him whole. The heat and suction engulfed him, and he cried out. He gave a brief thought to stopping this perversion, to pushing the Earl away, but the pleasure hit too quickly, and he found himself tangling his hands in Dorian's curls.

It was good. It was better then good. It was fantastic. Dorian knew exactly what to do to bring maximum pleasure and he was doing it. Never had he been sucked off so expertly. The thief had him curled over, legs spread, knees up for leverage as he thrust into his mouth. He was gasping, inarticulate cries falling from his lips, then Dorian gripped his balls and squeezed, and it was all over. With a choked gasp, he came into that hot mouth, emptying himself into the greedy throat. Dorian sucked him down, licking the tip for more.

He saw stars, felt himself falling backward and hitting the mattress with a heavy thump. Then Dorian's mouth released him and the Earl was looking down at him with an expression that could only be described as shell-shocked. He dimly wondered if his face mirrored the thief's. He certainly felt traumatized, but he did not have time to dwell upon it as he was quickly losing consciousness. He willed one hand to grab the Earl's shoulder, ignoring the grimace of pain the man gave from the bruises.

"Blieb'," he managed, using the German because he'd forgotten all of his English. "Geh nicht."

He saw Dorian nod. "I promise."

He smiled weakly then let the darkness take him.
 

 
Klaus' eyes snapped open and for a moment he was disoriented. Then he remembered the flight from Hungary to Munich and the safe house and... Dorian. Shock hit him as he remembered the rest of it. He and Dorian had had sex, and Dorian had given him the blow-job of his life. His body shuddered with the memory, his cock voicing its approval and desire for more. He looked down at himself. He was still fully clothed, albeit the clothing was in considerable disarray. The only part of him that was exposed was his crotch, the jeans open and pushed down on his hips, his underwear twisted out of the way. His cock was standing at attention, the hooded tip winking at him in his disgust.

Then he remembered Dorian promising to stay and he looked for him, finding him on the bed, curled as far away as possible. His body thrummed at the sight of the source of its recent pleasure. Still in Klaus' sweatpants, the Earl was on top of the bedclothes, chest naked to the cold room, shivering.

Probably was afraid to wake me so he could get under the blankets, Klaus thought grimly.

Reaching over, he gently shook Dorian.

"Dorian," he whispered.

The Earl came awake with a whimper then a gasp. He flinched when Klaus touched him again, making Klaus' heart spasm.

"Shhh," he comforted, realizing that Dorian expected to be beaten. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want you to get under the blankets. You're cold."

Dorian looked at him, his large, blue eyes revealing his shock, then he lifted himself up enough for Klaus to pull the blankets from underneath him. Klaus covered him and tucked the blankets around him.

"Where are you going?" the Earl asked in a small voice when he got out of bed.

"To undress. I will be back. I promise."

"You... You're not mad?"

He knew he should be, but he wasn't. "No," he said carefully.

Peeling off his clothes, nose wrinkling at the smell of them, he dropped them to the floor and pulled on his pajamas. His cock protested as he covered it up, pressing against its new confines unhappily. It knew what the other man in the room was capable of and wanted more. Not entirely comfortable, he crawled back into bed and slid under the covers, to find Dorian still curled as far away as possible and still shivering. He took hold of the Earl's shoulder and tugged him closer.

"Come here. You're freezing."

Dorian slowly obeyed, coming closer, curling up next to him. "I'm sorry. I can't seem to get warm."

"'S understandable," he answered, putting an arm around the slender body.

"Klaus?" Dorian asked after a moment.

"Hm?"

"Why aren't you angry with me?"

He didn't know quite what to say to that question. "Are you angry with me?" he asked instead.

"No."

"Then don't worry about it."

"But..."

"Don't talk."

Dorian complied, but snuggled closer as Klaus tightened his arm.

"Hurt?" he questioned.

"No," Dorian replied. "'S'ok." But he was still shivering.

"Mm."

The Earl settled down, his body heat seeping over into him, his scent coming into his nose. The sleepy comfort only served to give his already interested cock more incentive and it bobbed against the inside of his pants.

What am I, a fucking teenager? he asked himself angrily.

He shifted uncomfortably, brushing against Dorian's own hardness as he did so. They both froze.

"I'm sorry," they both said in unison and Dorian gave a little laugh that bordered on hysteria.

"It would seem that my body thinks it's many years younger," the Earl apologized.

He cleared his throat and swallowed hard. Ever observant, he soon felt the thief's questing fingers feeling his erection.

"Oh. I see. Yours too then."

He did not answer, but heat flooded his groin as Dorian's hand closed over him.

"I know a very good way to warm me up," the Earl said suddenly in a breathless whisper.

"Va?" he answered, his vision going out of focus as Dorian stroked him through the cloth of his pajamas.

He grunted as the thief's body slid on top of his, their groins aligning, hardness to hardness.

"Oh. Oh yes," he heard Dorian sigh as their erections rubbed each other.

He was shocked speechless, nearly paralyzed by the brazenness of the man atop him.

"Dorian..."

A hand covered his mouth as the body covering his began to rock back and forth. "Hush, Major. I know. I know you'll never let me do this again. I know you'll probably kill me for this in the morning, but right now, I don't care. I don't know why you're letting me do this, but I don't care about that either."

The hand moved to be replaced by Dorian's mouth and he gasped as the Earl's lips kissed him deeply. The thief curled his hands into his black hair, cradling his head as he licked and sucked at Klaus' mouth.

"Mmmmmmm," he heard Dorian murmur. "You taste so good. Better than I ever thought you would."

"Dor..." he tried again as the Earl sat up, nimble fingers unbuttoning the shirt of his pajama top.

"One night, my darling. One night only. I know. But tonight there's nothing else and I am going to live as much of my fantasy as I can."

Stunned, Klaus lay there as Dorian peeled back the cotton shirt, baring his chest and ran his hands over his skin.

"Oh, so beautiful. So beautiful. I love you so much, Major."

The hot mouth descended upon his unprotected breast, lips and teeth nipping and sucking at the tender flesh. He gave a wordless cry as his body clamored to life, reacting to the foreplay more strongly than it ever had.

Just as he had been merciless before, so Dorian was now, playing his body like a fine instrument until he was vibrating helplessly, every nerve firing. When Dorian slipped off of him long enough to strip them both of their pants, he felt bereft, moaning at the loss. He heard the bottle of massage oil opening, and smelled the familiar scent as Dorian climbed back on top of him.

"I'm going to make this so good for you, Klaus."

For a moment fear rippled through him at the possible meaning of Dorian's words. He knew little of male-male relations, but he knew of anal sex and he was not sure if he wanted to be on the receiving end of the Earl's attentions. Dorian must have sensed his distress because he found himself being shushed and cajoled.

"Oh, no. No my love. Not you. You'll find out soon enough what I have planned," came the sweet, seductive voice.

The lithe body settled upon his once again, their naked hardnesses caressing each other sensuously. They both groaned. Dorian was arching his back, doing something with his hand that Klaus could not see, and soon he did not care because the Earl had returned his skilled mouth to his breast.

Many long, breathless moments later, during which he was certain he was going to explode if he did not have relief soon, he felt Dorian's body shift, his hips raising. Then one slick hand grasped his erection, spreading oil upon it, smoothing over the sensitive head. He cried out at the sweet touch, lifting his hips to ask for more of the same, but the hand only held him steady. He was about to moan when he felt the tip of his cock press against something warm, and realized what the Earl planned to do. His eyes flew open.

"Dor..."

"Shhhh," the thief soothed, covering his hands with his own as the tip of Klaus' erection breached the first ring of muscle.

Paralyzed, Klaus stared as Dorian slowly impaled himself, his face a mask of rapture, until his own rapture hit. He choked, his hands convulsing as he was pushed deeper and deeper into tight, wet heat.

"Unngh," he heard Dorian breathe.

"Ok?" he managed, unsure if he could put more than two words together since his entire being was now galvanized in his groin.

"Yes!" came the gasped reply. "Oh, god, yes."

He felt the Earl's weight settle on him as he came to rest fully upon him, straddling his hips. The union was complete and he was fully buried within Dorian's body. The passage was many times tighter than any woman he had ever bedded, and the muscles rippled around him, massaging him every time Dorian clenched the sphincter.

For a long time, Dorian was still, both of them trembling with the effort, then finally, finally, he began to move. He lifted up, tossing his head, and slid back down, to repeat the process again. Klaus had never before felt such ecstasy.

"Dorian..."

"My love... my Major..."

Again and again the Earl impaled himself, trying to take Klaus deeper with each stroke until Klaus began thrusting up to meet him, their hands still entwined. Dorian must have taken the action as approval for he released Klaus' hands, allowing him to grip the narrow hips for better leverage.

"Kl... Klaus..."

Klaus grunted as he thrust up, bringing Dorian down onto him with force. The Earl's body shuddered and he felt the walls contract around him as Dorian gave a cry.

"Dorian?" he asked, worried.

"Don't stop!"

Taking the Earl at his word, he complied, matching Dorian stroke for stroke as the pace became more heated and desperate. One of the Earl's hands closed over his own erection, rubbing in time with the thrusts Klaus was giving him, and Klaus could feel the passageway getting tighter and tighter with each thrust.

They were sweating profusely now, droplets dripping off the Earl's skin and falling onto his. The blond curls were plastered to the pale neck and shoulders, hiding the bruises. He was undulating, moaning loudly with each movement, inciting Klaus to a near frenzy of need and passion the likes of which he had never experienced before. When Dorian stiffened and came, semen spilling onto Klaus' abdomen, Klaus felt as if his cock was suddenly seized into a vice that clamped down upon him and milked his orgasm from him. Completely out of control by this point, he complied, climaxing harder than he had in years. He was dizzy from it, and Dorian was swaying none too steadily atop him, but he held onto consciousness this time. He was glad of it too because the Earl collapsed on him not two moments later.

They lay trembling, riding out the last of the shudders until Klaus' softened cock slid out of Dorian's body. The separation seemed to break the mood around them, and gently, careful of his new lover's injuries, Klaus slid out from underneath him in order to fetch tissues and wash cloths for cleanup. It took him a while because his legs were made of gelatin and did not seem to want to hold his weight, but he managed to stagger to the bathroom. Once there, he tried not to look at himself in the mirror. He did not want to see the smug satisfied expression he knew was on his face. No woman had ever pleased him so much. Nor did he want to face the truth that Dorian had been right about him all along. He set about wiping himself off and soaking wash cloths in hot water and was about to return to the bedroom when he heard the sound of a body falling.

Fear clearing his head, he hurried back to Dorian to find the thief sprawled on the floor.

"Dorian!" he cried and ran to help him, but the man shrank from his touch. That was when he realized that Dorian was crying. /What the fuck is it now?/

"Dorian, let me help you," he said, kneeling on one knee and reaching for the Earl.

"How can you? How can you stand to touch me after what I just did?!" Dorian demanded.

"Huh?"

The Earl looked at him, his face anguished, "Klaus I just raped you!"

"What? What nonsense is this?!"

But Dorian was not listening to him. He was crawling on the floor gathering up his dirty clothes.

"Clothes. Must get my clothes..."

"Dorian, what are you doing?"

"I can't stay here. Not after what I did... Oh, oh my God!"

Whatever the Earl had just remembered caused him to hide his face in his hands and weep bitterly.

"What? What is it? What the hell is wrong with you tonight!?"

"Klaus we didn't use a condom! Oh my God..."

Terror gripped him for a moment and he stood up. "What? Are you saying you have AIDS?"

"NO! No, I don't have AIDS!"

Relief flooded through him. /Thank God for that./

"But that's no excuse! You... you could get an infection from getting... stuff up your... you know. Cranberry juice. Drink lots and lots of cranberry juice for the next week. It'll help prevent infection," the Earl continued, pulling on the shirt he had worn in Hungary earlier that day.

Klaus' head was spinning and he watched dazedly as Dorian got dressed.

"I know you won't want to see me for a while. I wouldn't blame you if you never want to see me again. I can only beg you for your forgiveness, but I know this time I truly deserve your hatred..."

/What?/ "Dorian..."

"What I've done is unforgivable. I can't even tell you why I did it. I am deeply and truly sorry..."

"Dorian."

"I won't even blame you if you beat me or want to kill me. I deserve any punishment you mete out..."

The Earl was standing now, half-dressed, looking for the rest of his outfit.

"DORIAN!" he bellowed.

That made the Earl pause and look at him with wide eyes. He was quivering with fury, clenching his fists. Dorian looked like a deer trapped in headlights.

"If you even try to walk out that door, I will not be gentle with you," he threatened.

Dorian blinked at him, then looked away towards the bed. He took a tentative step towards it.

"If you want to beat me, I'll accept my punishment. I deserve worse..."

"DORIAN!" he bellowed again, making the man flinch, but return his gaze to him. He fought for calm. "I do not wish to beat you. I do not wish for you to leave."

Shocked silence ensued and Dorian stared at him. He used the opportunity to approach the frightened man and take his wrists gently. Dorian turned his head away, unable to look him in the eye.

"How can you even bear to look at me?" he heard the Earl whisper.

"Because you did not rape me as you say."

"I forced you. I... My God, I've never forced anyone, ever," Dorian answered, meeting his green eyes with pleading blue ones. "I don't know what came over me, Klaus! I swear I'll never do it again. It's just... you were there... and you were being so kind... and I needed so badly..."

Klaus shut him up the only way he knew how. He kissed him, and when Dorian ceased his muffled protests and stopped struggling, he pulled back and looked him in eye.

"You did nothing to me that I did not want for you to do."

"Klaus?"

"I am going to let you go now. I want you to get undressed and get back into bed. Understood?"

A wordless nod was his answer. Satisfied, he released Dorian's wrists and watched as the Earl slowly peeled off his clothing.

"Should I put your sweatpants back on?" the thief asked timidly.

/No./ "No."

Giving Klaus an uncertain look, perhaps thinking that he had suddenly been kidnapped by an alien in Klaus-form, Dorian slipped back into bed. He waited a moment longer before putting out the lights and joining him. Then he took the trembling man into his arms and held him.

"Now. I want no more talk of rape or leaving."

"Yes, Major," came the faint answer from the face pressed to his shoulder.

"If you're not here when I wake up in the morning, I shall be very angry."

"Yes, Major."

"Gut. Now go to sleep."

"Yes, Major."

He smiled, pleased with himself.

"Major?" Dorian asked carefully.

"Ja?"

"What just happened between us?"

Ah the 500,000 mark question. "I don't know, and I am too tired to think about it right now."

"But we'll talk about it in the morning?"

"Ja."

The Earl sighed and relaxed a bit. "All right. I love you, Major."

"I know. Now go to sleep."

Dorian obeyed.

 

 

He was awakened a three hours later by nature's call. Returning from the bathroom, he found Dorian awake and sitting up in bed.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I woke up and you weren't here," came the soft reply.

"I had to pee," he said, getting back into bed.

"So I gathered when I heard the toilet flush. Still, there was a moment there when I was afraid you'd..."

"Left?" Klaus finished, coaxing Dorian into his arms.

"Yes."

He took the angled chin into his hand and forced the man to look at him. "I told you I'd be here in the morning. Did you think I was lying?"

The Earl shook his head. "No."

"Gut."

The blond curls were tucked against his shoulder and he closed his eyes, oddly content. Dorian's weight was a welcome warmth, solid and alive, and he found himself snuggling closer. The Earl shifted and he felt one hand come to rest on his lower abdomen.

"Klaus?"

"Ja?"

"Did you mean it when you said I didn't force you earlier?"

The question was spoken with trepidation.

"You did not force me," he confirmed.

"Did I please you?"

Now he begins the foppish bullshit. "Do you doubt that you did?"

"I... I don't know."

"You pleased me, Dorian. Now stop being silly and go to sleep."

The Earl was quiet for all of ten seconds, his finger tracing circles on Klaus' skin.

"Klaus?"

"What is it now?"

"Would you do it again?"

He furrowed his brow in confusion. "Do what?"

"You know..." The Earl made his point by pressing his crotch against Klaus' thigh, a crotch with a newly hardened erection. "Do it."

"Now??"

He felt Dorian shrug and wiggle seductively against him. "Well... Oh damn."

"What?"

"We can't. Well, at least not all the way. No condoms," the thief bemoaned.

Without really knowing why, he corrected, "I have condoms."

"You do? Where?"

"In my suitcase."

The Earl lifted his head just in time for Klaus to see the flash of jealous rage in the blue eyes.

"What are you doing with condoms in your suitcase?!" Dorian squeaked.

"My butler packs them whenever he makes up my traveling bags," he defended. "He doesn't want any illegitimate von Eberbachs running around."

The grin Dorian gave him was positively lecherous. "Oh. Well then, remind me to thank your butler for his foresight. And you'll get no little Eberbachs from me running around, I assure you."

"You are an impossible pervert."

The Earl shrugged. "True. Does that mean you're not interested?"

"I didn't say that." Indeed he hadn't. His body was already reacting to the silken hardness against his thigh, tingling all over with remembered pleasure. It amazed him. He had never managed to have sex more than twice in a night, even when he was a much younger man, and now his body was going for three. He felt like a teenager again, and from the look on Dorian's face, the Earl was feeling the same way.

"Now, I'm not going to make the same mistake twice, Major. Yes or no?"

He swallowed, looking deeply into the blue eyes. "Yes."

Even in the dark room he could read the expression of relief on Dorian's face. "Good. I'm so glad, Major."

Then he had the unique pleasure of being seduced by the Earl of Red Gloria. In their 25-year acquaintance, Dorian had made many passes and overtures, and he had never realized that all of them were half-hearted. Now he knew what it was like to be seduced by Dorian Red Gloria, and he knew he never had a chance.

"Dorian!" he gasped, after a particularly incinerating kiss.

"Yes, darling?" the Earl drawled seductively.

He took the pause in the action to seize control, grabbing hold of the blond man and rolling him to his back. He heard Dorian give an amused chuckle.

"Always the control freak, my Major," he heard the Earl tease, then give a little grunt of pain. "Careful of my bruises, love, though I am sure I will be sporting a few more before this night is over."

Klaus growled in answer and kissed him, ignoring the triumphant look on the thief's face and his satisfied laugh. He could not, however, ignore the Earl's hands as they busily drove him to higher and higher levels of passion. Then one hand left his body and he felt Dorian doing something to himself. He opened his eyes and looked down to see the Earl fingering himself with the missing hand.

"Just getting myself ready for you, darling. It's not good to be taken unprepared. It can hurt terribly," Dorian explained to his unspoken question.

Klaus frowned. It sounded like Dorian knew firsthand what he was talking about. Once again in answer the question that must have been plain on his face, Dorian said softy, "I've never been raped, Klaus, at least not anything I would consider rape. I have been... coerced, and sometimes... rushed, but I've never been truly harmed by any if it."

The look on the Earl's face was rueful and he was wryly smiling. Klaus shook his head and took Dorian's free hand.

"I will never coerce or rush you... again." He added the last in deference to their very first encounter this evening.

The thief gave him a tender smile. "I know."

He watched, fascinated, as Dorian opened himself with his fingers and a liberal amount of massage oil. Through it all, the Earl did not neglect him, and used his other hand to tease breast and erection alternatively. Not that his body needed any convincing on the subject. His groin was throbbing and his balls were pulled tight to his crotch.

"Time for the condom, love," he heard the Earl say.

Obediently, he left the bed and fished the box of condoms out of his suitcase. Dorian watched as he ripped open the sealed top and pulled out a single plastic-wrapped package.

"Klaus love," the Earl said with a surprised laugh. "Darling, that manufacturer hasn't made that brand of condom in almost eight years!"

He stared at the blond. "So? Aren't they any good?"

Dorian giggled. "If they're still sealed in their wrappers they're fine."

He shrugged and climbed back into bed. Dorian welcomed him back with a deep kiss and a seductive wiggle.

"Then what is so funny, eh thief?"

"Your poor butler. Either he's convinced you're a monk or that a paternity suit is going to be leveled against you any day now," the Earl answered with a smile, taking the condom wrapper out of his had and peeling it open.

He shuddered, heat flooding in waves through his body as Dorian took his cock and slid the condom on.

"There, now you're safe," he heard the Earl murmur just before he was thoroughly kissed.

He felt Dorian slick massage oil over the condom, then pull away. He opened his eyes to see the blond turn over onto his hands and knees and present his loosened opening. It was an incredible, almost irresistible sight, and it sent jolts of lust right into his loins. Mouth dry, part of his mind screaming that this was perverted and wrong and against God and country, he rose up on his knees behind the Earl and took his hips. His cock silenced his screaming mind by reminding that part of him that no bitch he had ever taken to bed had ever meant a fraction of what the Earl meant to him, and that no woman had ever given him such love and pleasure, and would it please shut up because he was rather busy right now with more important things.

He heard the Earl sigh and felt him shift, arching his back up and spreading his legs a little further in invitation. Swallowing, he positioned the tip of his erection against the tiny opening and pushed forward. He heard Dorian groan right before he pushed back, his body yielding to let the first few centimeters of Klaus' cock in. He froze, shaking with restraint as he let Dorian inexorably draw him inside.

"Oh... Klaus," he heard Dorian breathe on a sharp exhale as their bodies fitted together as far as they would go.

He was trembling, teeth clenched, fingers reflexively digging into the soft flesh of the Earl's hips, but he waited until the Earl signaled that he was ready. He pulled back and thrust in again. Dorian jerked and moaned, giving with his knees, rocking forward, then back onto Klaus' cock. He thrust again, carefully, keeping himself in check, in control, riding his lover with smooth, even strokes, while Dorian writhed and sobbed with each thrust.

Finally, Dorian cried out in what sounded like frustration and pushed forcibly back.

"Klaus! Klaus, you're not going to hurt me!" the man begged.

"But..."

"Klaus, fuck me. I want it. Give it to me!"

He paused in his rhythm, uncertain. He'd never let go completely before. He was always in control, always careful. Women could be hurt by his strength... It seemed that Dorian could read his thoughts because the Earl reached back, clawing at him and forced him deeper.

"I am not a woman!"

The desperate reminder broke him and he gave a hard thrust in.

"Yes!" Dorian gasped.

He gave in again, loosening his holds at the Earl's encouragement.

"Yes, that's it, Klaus. Give it to me! Make me feel it! Fuck me!"

The litany of words spurred him on and he growled, gripping the pale hips tightly and bucking. Dorian bucked back, lifting up in surrender, keening with pleasure. The last threads of his control snapped and he lunged forward, draping himself over the thief's back, grinding into the tight hole, snarling. Dorian snarled in answer and twisted, arching up to drive him deeper and further into insanity.

All gentleness left him as he plunged into his willing, eager lover with unrestrained abandon. Dorian howled, writhing and bucking as he was taken with Klaus' full strength, one hand reaching back to stroke himself. Klaus felt it and moved one hand to wrap around the Earl's, joining him in the effort of bringing him to climax. It was too much for the Earl, Klaus surmised with the one tiny section of his brain what was not pistioning in and out of Dorian's ass, because he felt the vice clamp down and the ripples of clenching muscles as the blond came with a cry. Growling he bit down on the crux of the Earl's neck and shoulder, and poured himself deep into the hot body with one final thrust.

Afterwards they lay a trembling mass of sweat and breathless gasps as the Earl's limbs gave out on him and he collapsed. Klaus collapsed on top of him, their bodies still joined, until he realized that he was crushing the smaller man. With a murmur of apology and a gentle pat on the round backside, he disengaged himself and rolled to the mattress. He looked over at the pale cheeks, still raised slightly, and saw the stretched opening. It was clenching and unclenching, as if it was looking for the member that had just been inside it and was moaning the loss. He looked away, lest he try to give in to the silent plea.

He maintained enough coherency and coordination to take off the condom and toss it in the bedside waste bin, before falling back beside the Earl and fumbling for the blankets. He pulled the covers over their naked bodies just as Dorian rolled and attached himself to his side like a leech. He gasped as arms and legs folded around him, the blond curls tucked under his chin.

"Dorian," he groused.

The thief mumbled something and shifted into a more comfortable position before settling down again.

"Love you, Major," came the sleepy voice.

Klaus sighed and closed his eyes, wrapping one arm around the slender body attached to his. He fell asleep moments later.

Now it was just before 7 am. Klaus' own internal clock had awakened him before the alarm. Dorian was dead asleep, an expression of utter bliss and contentment on his supple face, and Klaus was loathe to wake him. Slipping from the bed, he went to the bathroom for a shower and shave, noting with some surprise that he had several small love-wounds marking his chest and shoulders. Dorian Red Gloria, in the throes of passion, could be quite wild indeed. He inspected the scratches and tiny teeth marks, determining that they were nothing more than superficial passion marks, and took his shower.

Dorian was still asleep when he finished so he dressed and combed his hair. He knew he had to deliver the microfilm to NATO as soon as possible. That meant leaving for Bonn as quickly as they could get out the door. The longer he kept the microfilm, the greater the danger to the both of them. He wasn't sure if Dorian should accompany him or not. Regardless, the bed was wrecked and reeked of sex and sweat, and he needed to launder the sheets before NATO had someone in to clean the flat.

"Dorian," he called, sitting on the bed and shaking one shoulder lightly.

"Mmmmph," the Earl complained, screwing his eyes tightly shut.

"Dorian," he said a little more forcefully.

"Go 'way. Sleepy," came the muffled reply as the Earl attempted to cover his head with the blankets.

Both amused and irritated, Klaus took matters into both hands and deftly stripped the bed of its blankets and dropped the Earl on the floor.

"Ow!" Dorian yelped, squinting owlishly up at the man towering above him.

"Guten Morgen," he greeted cheerily at the naked man now lying in a heap on the carpet.

"Fuck you."

"Ooo, testy in the morning, are we?"

"Only when overzealous control freak majors dump me buck naked on the floor at... what time is it?"

"Twenty minutes after seven," he replied.

"At this UNGODLY hour," the Earl continued peevishly. "Don't you think I've a right to be testy?" he finished with a pout.

Klaus lit a cigarette and drew on the tip, blowing out the smoke calmly. He had cut down his smoking considerably over the years, but today he knew he was going to need the nicotine just to get through the day. "No. Now get up and take a shower. You stink and we have to leave for Bonn as soon as possible."

The Earl struggled to his feet, lifting up an arm for Klaus to help him up. Klaus took his wrist gently and easily lifted him, setting him on his feet and giving a precursory look at his bruises.

"Hmm, healing up all right," he noted.

The Earl brushed him off. "Yes, they are. I'm just stiff this morning. For more reasons than one."

Klaus' heart blanched. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Dorian met his stricken gaze with a smile. "No, darling, you didn't. I'm just a little... tender. I'm fine. Better than fine. I'll go take a shower now and that will help."

Without waiting for his answer, Dorian left for the bathroom. In his absence, Klaus stripped the bed, gathered up all the soiled clothes from the night before, laid out his terry cloth robe for the Earl to wear, and took the laundry down to the building's laundrette. He used detergent supplied in the safe house in the wash and left the laundry churning in the washer. Then he crossed the street to the bakery next door and purchased coffee and pastries for the morning's breakfast, and bought yogurt and a newspaper from another nearby store. On his way back to the flat, he detoured past the laundrette and switched the laundry into the dryer.

Dorian was seated at the small table in the flat, wrapped in Klaus' robe, when he returned. The blond gave him a wary, uncertain look as he put down the coffee, yogurt and pastries, and sat down to breakfast.

"Eat," he ordered, shoving the yogurt, a pastry, and one cup of coffee, sweetened to the Earl's tastes with cream and sugar, towards the silent man. He then hid himself behind his paper and smoked another cigarette.

"Major?"

"Yes?" he answered brusquely.

"Where are my clothes?"

"Being washed along with my clothes and the sheets from last night," he answered.

"Oh."

He resumed reading, then noticed that he did not hear Dorian eating. He lowered the paper and looked at the Earl.

"Are you all right? You're not eating."

"I'm sorry. I'm not very hungry."

"Are you feeling sick?"

Dorian shook his head. "No. No nothing like that."

"You should eat. Your body is healing. It needs nourishment," he stated, concerned.

He watched as Dorian made a token effort to sip his coffee and eat a bite of the pastry.

"There," the thief said.

"Gut," he answered and hid behind his paper again.

A moment later he heard Dorian speak.

"Klaus."

"Yes?" he answered, turning the page.

"Klaus. Please?"

He sighed, folding the paper and putting it aside. There was no way the Earl was going to let this go. He was going to have to face it.

"What?" he tried.

"Klaus, it's morning."

"So it is," he agreed.

"Klaus, you promised we'd talk in the morning."

He swallowed hard, some of his cold façade slipping. "So I did."

They were silent. Dorian could not meet his eyes.

"Lets get this over with then," the Earl whispered, resigned.

"What?"

"You're going to tell me you hate me. That I seduced you. That you despise me and want to kill me and to get out and you never want to see me again. Please wait until I have clothes before you toss me out on my ear."

He tried to remain calm, but his hand gripped the table.

"You seem very certain that is what I am going to do," he replied calmly, too calmly.

"Isn't it?" Dorian asked, looking at him with a heartbroken expression on his face.

"No," he answered flatly.

"Then what..."

"What?"

Dorian sighed, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "Then what happened between us last night?"

"I thought it was fairly obvious."

Dorian looked crushed. "I see. It was just sex then. I suppose it's more than I could ever hope to have from you. I knew we would only have one night together. Still..."

Now he was growing angry, and he clenched his teeth fighting for calm. "Dorian, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"I didn't expect any declaration of love, but I hoped it was more than just sex to you. It was more than just sex to me."

"Are you... are you accusing me of using you for casual sex?" he barked angrily.

"It wouldn't be the first time I have spent the night with someone who had second thoughts in the morning. I don't blame you, Klaus. I know you're straight..."

"Dorian, shut up."

"Don't feel guilty, Klaus, please. I know that all too often things which seem right and good in the dark, look much different in the light. I am just glad that you don't seem to hate me..."

"Dorian. Shut up."

"I'll leave you alone for a while, of course. This sort of thing tends to cause delayed trauma, especially in one so... up in years as you. Such a thing is surely to come as quite a shock. Maybe you should consider seeing someone..."

He slammed his hand down on the table forcefully, making the coffee slosh over the sides of the cups. Dorian flinched and looked at him with frightened eyes.

"Dorian! Shut! Up!"

Dorian shut up. He lit another cigarette to assuage his frayed nerves. He did not want to be having this conversation when he had only gotten five hours of sleep...

Only because you spent the rest of the night having sex with another man! he reminded himself.

He was also dealing with the repercussions of his own behavior and feelings about the night, and they were still on the run, probably with Serbian spies hot on their heels. This was not starting out to be a good day. At least he wasn't sexually frustrated on top of everything else.

Thanks to the man sitting not 2 m from you, who is looking as if he expects to be murdered at any moment, his mind noted reasonably. He frowned. He had to say something. He had given his word that they would talk. Now he just needed to decide what to say.

"Lord Glor... Dorian," he began.

"Yes Major?" the Earl asked in a small voice.

He sighed. This was not going well. He was a man of action, not words.

"Dorian, I am not good with words. They have served me very little in my life. Always I have fared better with my fists and my gun. If you are looking for someone who can spout poetry and foppish bullshit, I am not the one for you."

"Oh Klaus..." he heard Dorian whisper.

"However, I will tell you this. Last night was not... casual sex for me. It did not... mean nothing to me."

Looking at Dorian he saw the other man was holding his hands over his heart, tears leaking out from the corners of his eyes, but he was radiating happiness.

"Oh Klaus. Thank you. You don't know how much that means to me."

He cleared his throat and continued. "You have been a... reliable and loyal friend to me. And I care for you a great deal. I... I would be unhappy if you were to disappear from my life."

He saw Dorian nod. "What would you like me to do, my darling?"

"I... I do not know. I don't know what is going to happen when we leave this flat, Dorian. For all we know Prescovich could have found us and we'll both be killed today..."

"Oh don't say that, Klaus, please!"

Klaus shrugged. Near death was a way of life for him and had been for over thirty years. "None of us knows anything, Dorian. We never know how much time we have. I learned years ago to live in the present and not worry about what comes next."

He paused and took a deep breath, getting his thoughts together. "So much has changed. Borders, countries, governments. And some things have stayed the same: my duty to NATO, my father's disappointment in me, my failure to my family by not producing an heir, my rank as an eternal Colonel thanks to my section chief's hatred of me. The only good things that have stayed are Z and you. And you love me."

He stopped, looking at his hands, at the table, the Spartan safe house. Dorian stayed silent, as if he knew he was not yet finished with his rare speech.

"Why? Why do you love me? I gave you no reason to love me, gave you no encouragement. I insulted you, physically hurt you, sent you into danger to get you away from me, but nothing I did made you go away." He looked at the Earl, only now he knew that he was the one wearing the heartbroken look. "I never understood what you saw in me. I was a cold, unfeeling, rude, violent man. And nothing has changed except now I am a cold, unfeeling, rude, violent, old man." He spread his hands on the table.

"But you're here. Here with me. Why? What do you see in me? I've looked for it, Dorian, but I've never found it. All I see is a hard, cold-hearted man filled with more darkness than light. I've... I've become my father."

Dorian was weeping openly now, hands pressed to his mouth, shaking his head in denial.

"Oh Klaus... I want so badly to come to you. Will you let me, please?"

He gave a small nod and stood up as he heard the chair scrape against the wood floor, and the man he had come to equate with sunshine and roses was pressed against him. The strong hands were stroking his hair, and he could feel the heat emanating off the body as Dorian breathed in his ear.

"No, no Klaus. You're not cold or dark. You're warm and vibrant and there is so much good in you. Don't you know I could never love you as much as I do if you were truly all those things? And I do love you Klaus. I love you, and I will keep saying it until you believe me, and even then I won't stop."

Dorian grabbed his face and kissed him as if he was trying to convince him of his own self-worth by the force of his own will. He found himself kissing back, drawn in by the Earl's brightness.

"I love you, Klaus. Can you love me?"

"I...," he managed.

He heard Dorian sigh then he was enfolded into those slender arms that were so deceptively strong.

"I want to find the person who convinced you you were unworthy of love and strangle him if I could. I want to take you and love you until you are breathless and have no choice but to believe me that you are no less than the most wonderful man in the world."

He snorted, but let his forehead come to rest upon the Earl's narrow shoulder. "Dorian, please."

"But it's true!" the thief insisted, squeezing him. "It's all true. Every word of it! I love you, Klaus."

He was kissed again, deeply, thoroughly, with lips and teeth and tongue. He groaned, his body reacting to the kiss, and he gripped the Earl's arms in his large hands, holding on.

"Dorian," he choked when the man let him breathe.

"Mmm, if I could, I would draw you back to bed, but I don't think I can take you again," Dorian said with regret.

The quiet statement gave him pause and he looked at the blond. "Sore?"

Dorian nodded, "A bit, yes."

"Let me see."

It looked as if the Earl was going to protest, but he gave the man one of his stern 'I-will-not-be-reasoned-with' glares, and the thief gave in with a sigh of resignation. Turning around, he leaned on the table, pulling aside the robe and bending over so Klaus could see. Taking the round cheeks in his hands, he parted them slightly to inspect the swollen opening, pursing his lips in displeasure. The ring of muscle was red and inflamed, and the Earl gave a little hiss of pain when he used his thumb to gently look for rips and tears in the flesh.

"Hmmmmmm. Hmmmmmmm," he said, giving the area a very thorough check.

"Ah. I believe the term you are looking for, Major, is very well fucked," Dorian supplied for him.

He grunted, unhappy that he was the cause of the Earl's discomfort. "You are not injured or bleeding."

"I know that already. I checked. I'm fine, just sore."

He stepped back, letting the man stand up and cover himself. He stood with his arms chastely at his sides as the Earl turned to face him again. The blond smiled at him, almost adoringly, and placed a hand on his chest.

"I don't regret any of it, my darling."

"We should not have..." He paused, uncomfortable with the words.

Dorian smiled. "Oh yes we should have. I haven't been this well loved in years, and I've never felt as loved as I do right now. Never, Klaus. But then I knew you were the only one for me."

He snorted. "Why? I am not... cultured or refined. I prefer tanks to roses."

The Earl grinned. "I have come to appreciate the beauty of steel. And the beauty of a strong man. It's true you don't mince words and you wouldn't know a Monet from a Picasso, but I can forgive you those shortcomings. If you can forgive me mine."

Dorian offered his hand and Klaus took it, holding it tenderly in his much larger palm. He watched as the action made the Earl tremble and close his eyes.

"What?" he demanded.

"You don't know..." the thief began, opening his eyes slowly to look at him. "I have wanted this for so long." He stopped, taking a deep breath, then pressed on. "Years ago, Agent A spoke to me before he left your alphabet for that promotion. You remember him?"

He nodded that he did, wondering what pointless tangent the Earl was going off on now.

"Anyway, he pulled me aside one day and sat me down for a chat. I was very surprised at this needless to say, but what he told me was invaluable to me and I never forgot it."

A chill creeped up his spine. "What did he say?"

"He told me that I would never win you with the tactics that I was using. That if I wanted you, I had to speak to you in terms you understood, to... to prove my love not with overtures and declarations of love, but with the things that were most important to you. Things like trust and loyalty, fidelity and courage, honesty and honor. And so I set out to learn your language of love, one I knew very little about. It did not involve ennui and flowers, but espionage and guns," the Earl answered.

"A said all of that to you?"

"Yes. As I said, he shocked me utterly, but then I think he and Bonham..."

"A was a queer?!"

Dorian laughed. "Oh no, no, my dearest. A is quite straight. I was trying to say that he and Bonham are good friends, and I think Bonham told him he was worried that you'd kill me if I didn't stop coming on to you. So dear A took it upon himself to give me the key to your heart before my foolishness got me killed."

He stopped, thinking. A had indeed given Dorian the key to winning him. The single most pressing thing that had kept the Earl in his regard was his unwavering loyalty and devotion. Whenever Klaus had needed him, Dorian had been there. He performed flawlessly and professionally on every mission they were on together, taking the same risks and chances as Klaus himself. Once Dorian ceased the passes and foppish dithering, their working relationship had greatly improved, and so had Klaus' feelings for him.

"But you told me you stopped making passes at me because it wasn't a game to you anymore," he stated, latching on to one little point of untruth.

"It wasn't. What I told you was true. I couldn't do it anymore, and before I got desperate, and even more stupid, A saw fit to set me straight."

Klaus smiled at the Earl's words. "You, Lord Gloria, have never been straight in your whole life."

Dorian giggled. "Well, no Major, that's true, but you know what I mean."

He took the moment of comfort between them to ask a question he had wanted to ask for years. "Why do you still call me Major. I've been promoted, you know."

"I know. But you'll always be my Major, no matter what rank you are. Even if you were made a General, you'd still be Major to me. That way, you're always young."

Dorian beamed up at him and he couldn't find any reason to tell him he was full of it, so he just smiled back.

"Are we done talking?" he asked.

The Earl frowned. "Have we decided what is going to happen between us when we leave this place?"

"No."

"Then I suppose we're not quite done talking."

He swallowed, nodding. "Dorian, this may take me some time..."

"I know. But I've waited this long for you, I can wait longer."

"That is not what I meant. This... thing between you and me, I've grown very used to it. I find that I... like having you in my life."

"And in your bed?" the Earl added hopefully.

Klaus' body tingled as he recalled last night. "Yes. But," he added before the man could speak. "We must be discrete."

"Oh, absolutely, my love."

"Nothing must appear to have changed between us," he stressed.

"Except when we're alone," the thief corrected with a pout.

"Yes, except for that."

"I can do that. I can do that easily. You've seen what a wonderful actor I am."

The blond's grin was infectious and he smiled, wrapping arms around the slender body.

"But Dorian..."

"Yes, Klaus?"

"If we... do this... I... I am not a generous man. I do not share."

The Earl agreed, knowing what he meant. "I shall forsake all others. There shall be no one but you, my darling. You are all I have wanted for years anyway. But Klaus, if you want me to be faithful to you, you must not neglect me. I cannot go months and months without seeing you."

He blanched. "Dorian... sometimes my missions..."

"I'll come with you."

He bristled. "You'll do no such thing!"

"Oh yes I will. I follow you everywhere you go anyway, so you might as well just take me along. I should probably officially join NATO as one of your agents."

The thought scared the liver out of him. Dorian with a gun.

"You're too much of a klutz."

"I've managed to do all right so far," the Earl defended.

"Only because God looks out for fools."

Dorian huffed.

"Dorian. Dorian please listen to me. While there are missions where I will welcome your company, there are others where the danger will be so great that your presence will only make me worry for you, and I cannot afford to be worried when I am on a dangerous mission. Do you understand?"

The blue eyes glared at him. "So you want me to stay behind and pray that someone in your alphabet has the decency to call me and tell me when they find your body. No, Klaus, I cannot do that. Don't ask me to. I'd pine myself sick."

"Dorian..."

"No. And I will not be reasoned with. You won't have any trouble explaining me. I follow you everywhere even NATO knows that. I have lust and unrequited love for you and I'm always meddling in your missions. Your alphabet doesn't give me a second glance anymore. In fact it would be suspicious if I didn't show up," the Earl continued vehemently.

He sighed. He wanted to press his point, but he had no time. They need to get to get to Bonn.

"We will... discuss this further. Right now, you need to finish your breakfast and get dressed. We have to go."

The Earl stepped out of his arms and reached for the pastry, consuming it and washing it down with a gulp of coffee.

"You're not going to change my mind, y'know," the Earl stated matter-of-factly.

He did not answer. He'd lock Dorian up, or have him arrested or something if it came to that. Of course, Dorian would probably never forgive him. But at least he'd be alive...

"I'll have to borrow a shirt from you, of course. There's no way my shirt will be dry in time," he heard Dorian say, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Why not? Does it take longer to dry in the dryer than other things?"

The Earl gaped at him. "You... You put my Christian Dior shirt in the dryer??!!"

He blinked at the shocked man. "Errr..."

Dorian put one hand to his forehead. "Oh Major..."

"Well, how the fuck was I supposed to know it couldn't be dried? Only you would wear a frilly piece of red cloth on a mission of international espionage!"

He heard the Earl sigh. "I suppose I shouldn't expect you to know how to wash delicate things. Pray be more careful if you're ever washing me."

"Humph," he snorted and turned away, lighting another cigarette. "Wait here. I'll go get the laundry. Eat your yogurt."

"Major," Dorian called as he stepped into the hall.

"Yes?"

"If it's not dry, just bring it up."

"Yes, yes," he answered.

"And if it is dry, fold it neatly."

"Yes, yes," he said, tromping down the hall.

"Don't just scrunch it up, it'll wrinkle!"

"Yes, yes, I get it."

"Major?"

"What now?!" he barked.

"I love you."

He turned to see the Earl standing in the doorway, robe half-open, curls in disarray. In a word, he was gorgeous. He smiled, then chomped on his cigarette.

"Get inside you exhibitionist or I'll arrest you for indecent exposure!"

Dorian grinned lewdly and showed his leg. "I didn't think that sort of thing fell under your jurisdiction, Major."

He growled menacingly. Dorian gave a squeak and skittered back into the flat, slamming the door behind him. Klaus just laughed. Then his smile faded and he stared at the closed door. What was he getting into? He must be crazy to... to begin a relationship with that queer. It was irresponsible, insane and went against everything his Catholic upbringing taught him.

But you're an atheist, he reminded himself. That was true, and priests had never done much for him anyway. Not like Dorian, who'd followed him into Hell and back. The priests always sighed when he confessed his sins, and he knew what they thought of him. He'd stopped going to confession years ago, convinced that the Church held no solace for him anymore. It was empty comfort now.

His piety had not bought him his father's love, or the love of a wife or an heir. It did not warm his heart or his bed, or comfort him when he was feeling more monster than man. All it offered was a promise of something better after his suffering on Earth, and even then only if he received Last Rites. How many NATO agents died with Last Rites? Only those cowardly enough or old enough to die of natural causes. Colonel Klaus Hienz von dem Eberbach was no coward, and at this rate his chances of dying a natural death were slim, unless...

Unless you had a reason to live. To stop taking dangerous chances and too many risks, he chided himself.

Twenty-four hours ago, he would not have given a dangerous mission a second thought, but now... Now he saw Dorian's stricken face in his mind. If anything happened to him, Dorian would be utterly heartbroken.

No. He'd probably die with you. Running head first into danger after you.

The thought froze him from the inside. Dorian probably would run into danger right after him, unwilling to leave his side. Such loyalty, while admirable, was suicide.

He'd do it because he loves me, because he wouldn't let me die alone.

He bowed his head and walked towards the stairwell that headed down to the laundrette.

Dorian was loyal, trustworthy (in most cases) and utterly devoted to him. At fifty, his prospects of finding a wife were close to nil, and even then she'd probably only marry him for his name and title. Maybe she would give him an heir but would he make a better father than his own father had been? There had been no love in his father. It seemed that all of it died with the mother he barely remembered. He knew what growing up without love was like, and now he that knew what it was like to be loved; loved for himself, not his title, or his money or his rank, he found that he did not want to give that up.

Last night had been... nice, and not just the physical aspects of things. Afterwards Dorian had held him, spoken softly to him, made him feel cherished and appreciated. Waking up with Dorian in his arms had been much more pleasant than his usual cold, solitary bed, and he'd been alone for so long.

You could do worse than Dorian, who loves you utterly. You could be saddled with a shrew who hates you and makes your life hell with her bitching and complaining.

Twenty-five years had gone, and Dorian was proving to him that true love really could last lifetimes. Maybe it wasn't too late to let love into his life, in no matter what form it came in. Dorian would tell him it wasn't, that it was never too late. Maybe he'd believe him.

Crushing out his cigarette and tossing it in the laundrette waste bin, he thrust his thoughts aside. All of that would have to wait. Now was the time for duty and getting them both to safety. All else had to be put aside until later.

If there is a later. No, there would be a later. He would make sure of it. He and Dorian would have many laters; many many laters.

Gathering up the clothes from the dryer, he neatly folded the red shirt, feeling only slightly guilty about drying it, and carried them up to the flat.

 

 

Epilogue- 15 years later

It always amazed him how good the sex still was, how he still marveled in his life-partner's body and in the giving of pleasure. Dorian was sprawled beside him, hair more silver than blonde now, but still beautiful. He looked down at the sleeping face and smiled, giving in to the urge to kiss the full lips. His Earl awakened at the touch of his mouth and soon they were wrapped in each other again, trying to be quiet because any noise on this day would surely bring Mr. James banging pots outside their bedroom door.

No cajoling or pleading or threats of his had convinced Dorian to sack his accountant, and he soon realized that to ask that of his lover was asking too much. He and James had come to a kind of uneasy truce, but the sounds of their loud lovemaking late in the morning almost inevitably brought the annoying man to their bedroom door.

"I love you," Dorian said afterwards, warm and happy from the sex.

"Ich liebe dich," he answered.

Dorian beamed at him. "You know what today is?"

He nodded, a lump forming in his throat. It was the day he had been dreading for months.

"Remember your promise," he reminded.

Dorian looked all wounded and innocent. "I remember. No big party, no big to-do. Z cried for weeks after I told him you made me make that promise."

He frowned, "I don't want my retirement turned into a circus."

Dorian made the display of crossing his heart. "No circuses, I promise."

"Gut."

Satisfied, in more ways than one, he got out of bed and slipped into his robe, just as a knock rapped on the door.

"Yes?" Dorian said.

"Breakfast!" came a cheerful, falsetto voice.

"Ooo! Bring it in," Dorian enthused cheerily.

The door opened and a young man no more than seventeen years of age entered carrying a tray. Dorian cried out with joy at the sight of him.

"Hans!! Hans David!" the Earl burst, scrambling out of bed, heedless of his nudity, to hug his adoptive son.

The two embraced happily, laughing, then Dorian called to him, "Klaus! Klaus it's Hans!"

He folded his arms and looked at his mate and son. The boy they had adopted ten years ago was growing into a fine, handsome man. Orphaned in the wars that erupted in the Balkans, he spent two years in an orphanage before Dorian and he had adopted him at the age of six. His name had been Armand then, but he changed it after Klaus named him his heir.

The adoption had been almost a bigger scandal than his promotion to Major General: an orphaned street rat come heir to the proud name of von Eberbach. Thankfully, his butler was already dead or it would surely have killed the old man. But Dorian had never been one for convention and in this he had followed his lover's lead. He had never regretted it.

"I can see and hear. You think because I am 65 that I am deaf and blind?" he growled.

Hans approached him, all smiles and open arms. "Father."

He made no move to hug his son. "Spring term is not over for three weeks. What are you doing home?" he demanded.

The boy grinned, knowing his father was all bravado these days. "You can't expect me to miss your retirement party! I took the train from Cologne."

"I sent for him. He has a right to be here as our son. It's a big day for you. He should be here. Now greet him properly," Dorian answered.

'Properly' meant hugs and affection. Dorian was insistent that any son of theirs would never lack for love. It took him a while to get used to all the open affection, but he found it much easier to bear than the coldness his father had always given him. Besides, the boy blossomed under affection and his smile was beatific. He opened his arms and pulled the boy close. Hans leaned into him, wrapping arms around him tightly.

"How could I not be here for you, Father?" he said, then whispered for only his ears, "I know how hard this is for you."

Hans knew Klaus dreaded retirement. Never in his life had he been without duty or direction. The prospect of being completely at loose ends was terrifying to him. He touched his forehead to his son's, cradling the auburn curls.

"Danke, Hans. It is good to see you."

"I made Father keep his promise to keep the party small and simple," Hans added softly.

"Hmph, small and simple for which one of us?" he replied with a knowing gleam in his eye. Small and simple for Dorian could mean anything short of a thirty-gun salute.

Hans giggled and was about to say something when Dorian's arms enveloped them both, squeezing them all together.

"There, now we're one happy family all together again," the Earl beamed.

"You're buck naked you pervert!" Klaus snapped, but it was with mock-anger.

"So? It's nothing he hasn't seen before."

"Stop it! You'll corrupt him!"

"I will not! Do you want him to be a divestmentphobe like you?"

Hans laughed. It was an old argument between his parents. He kept laughing as Dorian gave him a wet kiss on the cheek and released them, floating off into the bathroom.

"He never changes," Klaus groused.

Hans smiled. "No, but would you want him to?"

Klaus shook his head. His son was smart and knew him well. "No."

"He's what keeps you young, Father."

Klaus disagreed. "Nein. He's the one who keeps me alive."

One hand reached up to touch the scar on his chest, the one hidden by his robe. Hans saw the gesture and gently pulled aside the terrycloth to touch the jagged flesh. Ten months ago Major General Klaus von dem Eberbach had narrowly escaped death when a car bomb went off, blowing his Benz to bits. The only thing that had saved him was his lover's quick reflexes and sharp eyes. Dorian had seen the tiny red reflection of the timer light in a puddle underneath the car, had screamed a warning and thrown himself at Klaus, hitting him full force in the chest. Shrapnel and the fire from the explosion wounded them both, Klaus more than Dorian because he had rolled over to protect his lover, but Dorian sustained burns on both hands and part of his back. A piece of flying debris had speared Klaus through the chest, impaling him and piercing a lung, but thankfully missing his heart by mere centimeters. He lost a lot of blood, and for a while it was touch and go, but he pulled through. A month later he announced his intentions to retire from NATO.

"You're alive, Father," he heard his son whisper, placing one hand over his adoptive father's heart. "And he's alive too. Let it go."

"We will never really know peace."

"You will. You both deserve it. And now that you'll both be 'retired,' you'll have more time for each other."

Klaus knew Hans was referring to Dorian's retirement. Eroica would never steal another piece of artwork, forever the thief who eluded Interpol. The retirement was a direct result of his injuries from the car bombing. He lost the feeling in two fingers on his left hand due to nerve damage from the burns. No longer able to trust his most valuable tool, Eroica had no choice but to cease thievery. Somehow he thought Dorian's retirement was harder for the Earl than his retirement from NATO, but at least he would no longer have to deal with Dorian's underworld friends. Although he had to admit, having a Mafia boss in his pocket often came in handy. Still, he carried with him the heavy guilt that his position in NATO had gotten them both nearly killed, and he would never forget the pain on Dorian's face when he realized that he could no longer grasp small objects with fingers that had once been so nimble. Dorian had wept bitter tears where even his Major could not comfort him. The image was permanently burned into his mind, like the burn scars on his beloved's hands.

"If we don't kill each other out of boredom," he answered, trying to make light of the darkness he was feeling.

"Life with Dorian Red Gloria will never be boring, Father."

"I heard my name. Are the two of you taking it in vain?" Dorian said, sweeping into the room wearing a voluminous silk robe.

"It's nothing," Klaus tried, but his life-partner saw right through him.

Dorian came to him and took his hands, his blue eyes full of sympathetic worry and empathy.

"You're brooding again," the ex-thief said.

He looked down at the slender hands, still strong even if the left one was mottled.

"Oh, Klaus..."

Dorian stroked his salt-and-pepper hair tenderly, then lifted his chin to make him look at him.

"I love you."

"Ich liebe dich," he answered back.

"I love you too, Father," Hans added.

With a groan, he wrapped his arms around both of them, the two most precious people in the world to him. They hugged him back, cheeks pressed to his shoulders, and they stayed in the tight embrace for long moments, until Dorian pulled away and stroked his cheek.

"Come, my darling, we are here to celebrate life, not death. Let us wash and get dressed and prepare to meet our guests. And tonight, when the house is dark and all the guests have gone, I will remind you once again that you are alive and nothing less than the most wonderful man in the world." Then to their son, "Go and tell everyone that we'll be down in a little while, and make sure all the preparations are going well for the party."

Hans smiled and nodded. "Yes, Father."

The boy gave him a kiss and left them alone. Dorian looked at him, then tugged him towards the bathroom. A bath had already been drawn in the big tub, and the Earl sought to relieve him of his robe so they could wash. As Dorian tried to coax him into the tub, he grabbed one slender wrist and pulled the naked body close.

"Danke," he murmured into the silver hair.

"For what, darling?"

"For never giving up on me."

Dorian looked at him with the same expression of adoration he had first seen on the Earl's face fifteen years ago. "Never. I would never have given up."

"Was the wait worth it?"

"Absolutely."

"I am sorry it took me so long. I feared perhaps you thought it was too late."

The Earl smiled and shook his head. "It's never too late, my love. Never too late."

With that, his lover and other (sometimes better) half, drew him down into the tub for a kiss and a bath (eventually,) and he allowed himself to be guided and adored by the man who had always loved him, even when he was at his worst.

Never too late indeed.

FINIS