"Tell me what you want," Davenport whispered, his tongue licking a path along Birkoff's jaw and up into his short-cropped hair.

"Ummm…" Birkoff closed his eyes on a shudder. Now *he* was the one who couldn't think. Straight, bent or any way at all.

Davenport didn't wait for an answer. His teeth tugged on Birkoff's earlobe and Birkoff gasped out loud. *He* was the one who had finally taken the initiative, but Davenport was running away with the show.

"Are you sure you've never done this before?"

Davenport smiled, his straight white teeth in striking contrast to the light tan of his skin. "If I say yes, are you going to tell me to stop?"

"Hell, no!" Birkoff shouted. When he realized how loudly he'd declared his feelings, Birkoff blushed. "I mean…no."

"You like it?"

"I like you," Birkoff blurted out.

Their eyes met for a long moment and Davenport seemed to come to a decision. "I like you, too." Davenport pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. "A lot."

"You never said a—"

"Look at me, Birkoff. I'm not exactly number one on Ops' hit parade, y'know? Hell, if it wasn't for Michael, I'd've probably been cancelled a long time ago."

"I'd never let them put you into Abeyance, Dav."

"Wouldn't be much you could do about it, kid."

Birkoff's eyes took on a distinctive gleam. "Wanna bet?"

"Oh, yeah? You wanna apply for the job of Blessed Protector, huh?" Davenport seemed inordinately pleased by the thought, enough that Birkoff took heart.

"I wanna be your everything," Birkoff whispered.

"Damn. You make me feel like I actually got something to offer a kid like you."

"I'm not a kid," Birkoff protested, winding his body around Davenport's.

Davenport felt Birkoff's dick poke him through his customary layers of clothing and agreed. "Oh, yeah, you are definitely *not* a kid, baby."

"I'm not your baby either," Birkoff said, a mutinous pout on his lips.

Davenport swiped his tongue across the younger man's bottom lip with a desultory lack of speed that made Birkoff ache. "Ummm…well, maybe just a little."

Davenport grabbed Birkoff's hands and placed them on his bare chest. "I'm yours to command," he said, looking intently at the Comm op. "Baby."

"Get on the bed. We're wasting time."

Now they were both naked and there could be no mistaking the desire that flared between them. For someone who was used to leading, Davenport was good at taking direction. Seemingly addicted to Birkoff's mouth, Davenport couldn't stop kissing and licking and sucking those lips. Swollen and shiny, they reminded him of something else he wanted to taste.

"Can I—"

"You'd better."

What Davenport lacked in experience, he clearly made up for in enthusiasm. His tongue left a wet trail all the way down the center of Birkoff's firm young body. But when Davenport tentatively nibbled at the tip of his dick, Birkoff almost came off the mattress, his hips straining to get closer to the source of all that heat.

Davenport reached out and clamped his hands to Birkoff's hips, holding him fast for his indecently slow perusal of the Comm op's cock. Birkoff's legs trembled as he tried to think of anything, anything but coming.

He'd done this before, for Christ's sake. He wasn't exactly a novice, no matter what Davenport thought. But he'd obviously never done it with the right man.

His breathing, already erratic, suddenly stopped when Davenport swallowed him whole. Despite all his good intentions, Birkoff couldn't hold back anymore. It was as if he were standing powerless in the path of a great tidal wave and he was swept along in its wake.

It happened too quickly to warn Davenport. Birkoff came with a groan, emptying himself down his lover's throat. Embarrassed by his total lack of control, Birkoff covered his face with his arm. He couldn't roll over onto his stomach and hide the rest of the evidence. Davenport still gripped his hips.

Dangerously close to tears, Birkoff assumed that whatever *could* have been between them would *never* happen now.

But he'd reckoned without a man like Davenport. Davenport climbed up his body and gathered him into his arms, pressing a fervent kiss to the side of his neck. Far from being put off by what happened, Davenport was eager to continue.

Davenport nudged Birkoff's legs apart with his knee and let him feel the throb of his cock between his legs. "Is it my turn now?"

All at once Birkoff opened his eyes, their dark depths clouded with pain and confusion. "You still want to? After what I did?"

"What you did?" Davenport licked his lover's lips affectionately. "What *I* did, you mean. Do you know how good that made me feel? Knowing I could bring you off with barely a touch?"

The tension left Birkoff's body with a whoosh of relief. "You liked it?" he asked shyly.

"Liked it? I *loved* it. Are you gonna fuck me now? Please?"

"You want me to—? I just assumed that I'd—"

"You always bottom?"

Birkoff nodded.

"Mmm," Davenport purred contentedly. "Maybe later. Right now I want you to do me."

"Are you sure? You don't have a problem with me—"

"I. Want. You. Inside. Me." Davenport punctuated each word with a kiss that left no doubt how he felt.

Birkoff was instantly hard again.

"Ah, youth," Davenport grinned.

Davenport was so relaxed that Birkoff didn't need to do much stretching. But he wanted to make sure that Davenport's first time was as painless as possible. Pouring a generous dollop of lube into his hands, Birkoff coated his cock well.

To his surprise, he slid into the field op's narrow channel without any resistance at all. "Oh, God, you feel so good," Birkoff whispered into Davenport's ear, his lips caressing the lobe.

Desire seized hold of Birkoff and suddenly he had to move. Davenport rocked his ass, meeting each and every thrust, and soon Birkoff was buried balls-deep, coming for the second time. Hot fluid bathed Davenport's passage and he fisted both hands in the sheets. Panting heavily, he arched against the mattress and came, still able to feel the tiny aftershocks of Birkoff's climax in his ass.

"Wow."

"Mmm, yeah."

Birkoff collapsed along the length of Davenport's body, his lips pressing a kiss between his shoulderblades. Raking the tips of his fingernails across Davenport's back, Birkoff whispered, "I think I love you." Unsure what the older man might do with that information, Birkoff braced himself.

To his utter amazement, Davenport said, "I *know* I love you. I have for a while now."

Struck dumb, Birkoff rubbed his cheek against Davenport's bare skin in a telling gesture.

Davenport rested his head on his folded arms and smiled. He loved it when a plan came together. He should have felt like a total shit for manipulating first Michael, then Birkoff, into this position. But it was worth it.

Now he had Birkoff right where he wanted him. And he had no intention of ever letting go.