Ganymede Station Pt. 02

I pushed between two other containers and reached for the hatch release as I neared the one that held Cheyne. I knew a little about stasis pods, I had used one before, several times in marshall training and before that in my military days, but those were older models, less complicated-looking.

"How do I open this? I want him out of there!" I yelled. "Come here!" I ordered the man, waving him over with my weapon.

He walked over nervously. He peered at the display on the side of the machine and audibly gasped.

"What? What's wrong?" I demanded, my heart thumped in my chest. I tried to read the display but it was mostly numbers, symbols and jargon I couldn't immediately comprehend.

"Well, the temperature in this stasis chamber, it was preset for a human subject." The man fidgeted as he explained the situation.

"And what does that mean?" I asked, though I already understood.

The man looked at me with some worry for his own safety. "It's just too cold in there. He didn't survive."

CHAPTER 14.

A sudden chill ran over my body, making me feel numb all over. I was still of a single mind, and it was to find Cheyne. Maybe that wasn't him in there, maybe they had found him, safe and sound back on Carson's ship. I only half believed that though. My mind almost wanted to give in, this was the end of the chase and I had arrived too late. Honestly I'm not sure how I still managed to keep it together, maybe because I needed to see him, to know with certainty.

"Open it up, now!" I barked at the man.

He looked over to his partner, a question in his eyes.

"Don't look at her! Look at the goddamned pod and open it! Now!" I repeated.

The man in the white garb knelt down and pressed some buttons at the side of the container, causing the lid to hiss and begin to lift outward. Hibernation gases formed a cloud that spilled out the sides and onto the floor. I was careful not to inhale any. I grabbed the lid with both hands and hoisted it out of the way until I could see inside. Cheyne was there, strapped down into the narrow, padded interior. His normal deep violet skin was a frightening bluish color. His eyes were closed and he was stripped bare. His chest didn't move. I began to tremble as I beheld the young man. Part of me felt like there must still be something I could do, so I quickly unfastened the belts that held him and lifted him out in my arms. His body was so cold, so much colder than I had ever felt. I raised his head and lowered my own, listening for breath. There was none.

The two doctors still milled about, stupidly, uncertain of what they should be doing.

"Police are on their way, don't try to run." I told them. "There's a man with a gunshot wound in his stomach in the next room. Go see to him."

They quickly filed out of the room.

I sat down with Cheyne in my lap and lightly kissed his forehead. Even now, I was unwilling to surrender to the truth, must be my damnable stubborness. He was so chilled, raw, but I remembered my survival training from my military days. I quickly began stripping off my clothes, all the way down to my briefs. I covered my large insulated jacket around the kid's body and pulled him tightly against my front. I tucked his feet down between my thighs where it was warmest and brought his hands up to my mouth where I could heat them with my breath. I rubbed his back vigorously with my big arms under the jacket, wishing there was more I could do for him. Within a short time I began to feel his body warming against mine, grateful at least for that. I continued to rub his smaller frame, the friction beginning to radiate more heat into his young body. I kissed him gently between warm breaths.

"Please wake up, baby." I said quietly. "Please come back." My voice faltered, and that part of my brain was now telling me to let him go, but my dogged determination just kept him tightly locked in my embrace.

There came a small gasp for air that I thought had come from me at first. I stopped rubbing him for just a moment and this time there was a short cough and I realized it was from Cheyne. I held him even closer as I redoubled my efforts to heat him up as much as I could. My god, the kid was still alive, and I didn't even know how it was possible. My pulse raced, he was just as determined as I knew him to be, not ready to die like this.

"Cheyne, you're safe now, it's okay." I told him in a strangled voice.

His breathing was ragged and weak, his large, beautiful eyes were still closed. He didn't respond to my words but I knew he would be alright, he had to be, nothing else mattered.

After several more minutes the room came alive as four uniformed officers made their way inside with weapons raised.

"Over here!" I called from where I lay on my back across the floor, Cheyne still on top of me covered by my jacket. "I'm a marshall!"

The police holstered their weapons and two of them made their way over to where I was lying.

It must have been something of a peculiar sight, me in my underwear, cradling a young naked man in my arms on the floor of a chop shop, though it didn't occur to me at the time.

"This is Cheyne, he came out of a pod, nearly dead. He needs to be warmed up, and fast! Find him a room and a doctor in the hospital upstairs and do everything you can to help him!" I shouted frantically.

One of the officers was scabarethen himself and pulled off his heated uniform jacket and brought it over to where we lay.

"The man outside, the cop, is he...?" I asked anxiously.

"Reynolds? There were two doctors with him." One of the officers began. "The proto-fiber he was wearing took most of the damage but some pieces got through. He'll need more medical attention but they said he'll survive."

The news actually brought a grim smile to my face. "That's good to hear." I said.

The doctors from the basement operation were arrested, the two gunmen who had been incapacitated would be treated for their injuries and arrested as well. Wexel Carson would be taken to the morgue and incinerated. None of the other victims in stasis were on death's door like Cheyne had been as they were all human. They were woken up, made comfortable and then questioned. Nearly all of them had been homeless people from Ganymede and in one case a missing person that had been unsolved for a couple weeks. Reynolds and I had gotten here in time before any organ harvesting surgeries could be performed. When all was said and done, we had performed our duty admirably, uncovered a shady operation that spanned several stations and shut it down.

Cheyne was given a private room upstairs and for the first two days the waiting around was killing me. I wanted to be by his side at all times but initially I was forced out by his doctors. There had been complications with the hibernation. Apparently he had been drugged first by a paralyzing agent, then put to sleep by the stasis gases in a container that was too cold for him where he had developed severe hypothermia. His breathing had become halted and even his pulse wasn't registering enough for the machine to monitor life signs. Again, if it had been set for a scabarethen, the display might have been different. If I had listened to that man in the basement, believed Cheyne was truly dead, left him any longer in that box... But I hadn't done that, I knew in my bones that I was going to find that kid and save his life.

I had slept the night in an uncomfortable chair right next to Cheyne's hospital bed when he finally woke on his own. It was early morning, and the room was kept hot to aid in his recovery. He was lying on his back in the middle of the bed with monitors strapped to his wrists and a thin, transparent tube that lead into his arm where it was taped down. His eyes opened slowly, then closed again. Under the blankets his chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm. I had been told by his primary physician that he had been legally dead, and they were unclear for how long. What that meant was they were uncertain if he would regain all of his brain functions. I waited to see how he would respond, now that he was finally waking. My heart was in my throat as I climbed out of the chair and moved to sit at the edge of his bed. It creaked under my weight and Cheyne opened his eyes a second time, focusing on the large man sitting nearby.

"Are you really here, Deacon?" He asked weakly.

His eyes were a shade of pale yellow-orange, a color I had never seen, and would never forget. I don't have the words to explain everything I felt in that moment, it was like nothing I've ever experienced. For over a week I had thought about this man, missed him, wanted to touch him, worried about him and been beyond terrified that I had lost him, time and again. My body, my brain, had been nearly devastated as I followed after him through the stars. At last he was here beside me and I couldn't keep up the brave facade anymore. My defenses crumbled away as I beheld him. My eye welled with tears that started to course down my face. I wiped them away as best I could on my sleeve but I couldn't hold them back. I couldn't remember the last time I had spilled tears. I had spent so much of my life being tough, being numb through drink and distraction, being a coward to my own emotions. I felt Cheyne's long fingers touch my leg tenderly.

"Why are you crying?" He asked quietly.

I looked down at him through the tears and blubbered like a child. "Are you kidding? Because I thought I lost you. I-I thought you were dead! I don't ever want to feel that way again." My voice cracked as I spoke. I lifted his hand and kissed it warmly.

"Maybe we're both phoenixes." He said thoughtfully.

I looked him in the eyes and was disarmed by the depth of his words.

"Deacon..." He began. "I thought you and I, were over. You let me walk out, remember?"

I nodded. "I know I did. It was stupid, I didn't want you to leave but I..." I had thought about seeing Cheyne again for many nights, but now that we were finally here together, I hardly knew what to say. I lay down beside him on the small edge of the hospital bed so I could look at him more closely. He turned his head and struggled to shift onto his side, allowing me more room. He was careful not to tug the tube from his arm.

"Cheyne, I never meant to drive you away. I'm so sorry, about everything that happened, I know it was all my fault!" I exclaimed, even as I still wept.

He stroked a hand over my face. "It's okay, I shouldn't have been in such a hurry to leave. I should have told you, but I was scared to face you again." He looked down, ashamed.

"Please don't ever be afraid again, not of me." I pleaded. "I've only ever wanted to keep you by my side, keep you safe."

"And you did, you're a good friend." His smile was kind, but brimming with sadness.

I knew right then, that I hadn't come this far out of mere friendship.

"It's not enough to be your friend." I said softly.

"What do you mean?" He asked, his eyes searching my face.

I reached out and pressed my fingers to his warm, full lips.

"I'm in love with you, Cheyne. For a long time now, though I was too stupid to realize it." I croaked.

I watched as his eyes spilled over with tears of his own. "You idiot." He said with a short laugh. "Why couldn't you have just told me before?"

I shook my head. "I didn't know what I had until you were taken from me. I didn't think I could feel this way again."

"Just kiss me, please Henry." Cheyne said.

I leaned closer, holding him gently around the shoulder until our lips met. It felt like fireworks exploding in my chest, something I had not felt so intensely for many years. His mouth was so wonderful, inviting against mine. We melted together passionately, our tongues danced with one another like two old flames reunited. I could feel his hand behind my head, brushing through my thinning hair as he pressed closer into my body. We kissed and held one another for a long time until at last we each pulled apart and lay there, holding hands and studying the other.

"Why did you let me go before?" Cheyne asked again. "I know you think you had your reasons."

I sighed and placed an arm behind my head as I rolled onto my back. "Cheyne, I'm not good at this whole, boyfriend thing. You must know you could do a lot better than me." I said seriously.

"Who?" He snapped.

"Huh?" I asked in response.

"Who would be better for me than you? The man who cares about me, helps me, even put a roof over my head when I had nowhere to turn, who could possibly be better for me than you?" He asked again. Clearly his energy was returning.

"I don't know, but think about it. I drink too much, you know that. I'm old enough to be your dad. I can't give you the life you deserve." I answered sadly.

"You actually mean all of that don't you?" Cheyne asked in disbelief.

I nodded.

He rolled close to me and laid his head against my chest. "You do drink too much, and you probably are old enough to be my dad, but you're not him. And my life? I wouldn't even have it, if it wasn't for you. I don't want to think of a future that doesn't include you." He rubbed my belly affectionately.

I could feel tears begin to seep from my eye again.

"I'm not the easiest guy to be with, I can be stubborn--" I protested.

"Shut up, Henry. If you love me, and I love you, the rest will work out." He said knowingly. "You think you're the only one who's broken? Look at my life! The only good part of it has been with you. You make me grateful to be alive."

"Oh Cheyne." I said as I wrapped him up in my arms.

He turned to look up at me. "I'm always going to love you. No one has ever seen me like you do."

We lay there, quietly enjoying the comfortable silence when the door to the room suddenly opened and one of the doctors who had regularly been checking in stepped inside. He looked at us and his face reddened slightly.

"I would like to speak with the patient if that's alright." He said.

I carefully, grudgingly released Cheyne from my embrace and climbed off the bed, standing nearby and allowing the doctor room to walk over.

"How are you feeling, young man?" The older fellow asked in a kindly way.

"I feel pretty good, tired though, hungry." Cheyne replied.

The doctor gave a warm smile. "Well that's excellent news, I'll send the nurse along with some food shortly. You gave everyone quite a scare, but you're in good health, we expect you to recover fully."

"Thanks, doctor." Cheyne said earnestly.

I think my face must have shown more relief than Cheyne's and I gave an audible sigh.

The doctor looked me over then moved closer to his patient on the bed. "You might have this gentleman to thank as well. I heard he kept you warm when he found you and hasn't left your side since. I'd say he's a pretty good friend." He added.

"We're actually together." I gently corrected the man.

On the bed, I could see Cheyne swallow a lump in his throat and his eyes glisten. It did both of us good for me to acknowledge our relationship out loud, finally.

"Well hopefully after this little episode you boys can get back to something a bit less hectic." The doctor said.

"Less hectic than being abducted and almost dying? Sounds pretty boring to me." Cheyne joked. Neither the physician nor myself were terribly amused.

The tubes and monitors that were hooked up to Cheyne were removed. The hospital staff wanted him to remain for the rest of the day for observation and to ensure he remained rested. Within half an hour a nurse came by with some breakfast which Cheyne ate greedily. I was also brought some food as I hadn't made it to the cafeteria. It wasn't customary for them to feed visitors of patients but apparently word of what I had done was spreading, and now I was getting some special treatment as a result. When we were alone again in the small room again I slid back into bed beside Cheyne and we talked. I told him about seeing his message, going to Tetha, following him in the cruiser and finally about Carson. He listened soberly, asking questions throughout my retelling.

"Henry, I never meant to cause you so much trouble." He said.

"Nonsense, it's on me, and you have no need to apologize for anything. We're together now, that's what matters." I said firmly.

As he held me I could feel his body along my side, even his erection as he pressed his hips into mine. My own body began to respond similarly.

"How are you feeling? Physically I mean." I asked him.

"Not great, still pretty tired. At least I'm not hungry anymore." He said quietly, though he offered me a smile.

"Then let me take care of you." I grinned as I sat up and began to undo my belt buckle.

Cheyne cocked his head to the side and glanced first at my crotch, then up to my face. "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?" He inquired.

I gave him a deliberate nod. "I can't be this close to you and not want to make you feel good, kid." I told him.

He gave me a sorry expression. "I don't think I feel up to getting fucked." He said.

I grinned down at him as I pulled my shirt over my head, showing him my hairy chest. "That's okay, you just lay there and let me handle it." It made me feel attractive as his eyes roamed over my body, clearly enjoying the view. I kicked my boots off to the side and rolled my jeans down my legs and tossed them onto the chair.

Cheyne giggled. "Right here, in the hospital?"

"Oh yeah, it's okay, we can be quick." I told him.

"Well, at least pull the curtain around the bed!" He exclaimed.

I did as he asked, tugging the thin sheet hanging on a U-shaped rail around the bed to give us some privacy. I slid my fingers underneath the waistband of my underwear and tugged them down to my ankles, kicking them over near my boots.

"Damn you're beautiful." He said.

I gave him a sheepish grin. I hadn't considered myself to be someone that anybody could find appealing since losing an eye, gaining the scars and a substantial beer belly, and yet when Cheyne said it to me, I knew it was genuine.

"So are you, baby, more than you know." I said as I climbed onto the bed near the foot on my knees. I reached up and kissed him again, leaning my broad body over his. I reached between us then hauled the blankets down to his knees, causing his lengthy purple dick to slap up against his stomach. I quickly fell forward to my hands on either side of his body as I began to suck him into my mouth. I heard him gasp as I forced him down my throat. He was already oozing plenty of precum and I relished his tangy, nearly sweet flavor. I would have never guessed I could enjoy another man so much, but here I was, completely absorbed in my task.

"Flip around, I want to suck you too." Cheyne breathed.

I walked my back end up the bed and straddled his head with my knees.

"Mmm, what a view." He mused.

I chuckled in response.

Cheyne began to suck my cock into his mouth and then lap at my balls, tugging them gently and slurping his tongue around my bag. I decided it would only be fair if I did the same. I suckled one testicle into my mouth and then worked to pull the other in as well. Underneath me he moaned and jerked and tried to pull my entire scrotum into his hungry mouth, though I proved too large and he settled for one at a time. The sensations were incredible though. I remembered how much he enjoyed my face in his testicles and made sure to provide him as much pleasure as I could.

I stopped abruptly as I felt my asshole get licked. It was like nothing else, that ticklish, wonderful sensation back there. I could feel his hands spreading my big cheeks apart as he sniffed and tongued my pucker. I became like putty in his hands and a low groan escaped from my lips. I leaned my face back in between his long legs and pulled his thighs apart. This would be an altogether new experience for me but I was willing to try it with the man I loved. His anus was so dark it was almost black in color, it tensed and tightened as he breathed. I pushed my moustached mouth against it and gave a tentative lick. Then I licked again and shoved my face into his cheeks. Above me I could hear Cheyne moan and gasp between his own slurps and prods of my backside. His scent and taste was unique and strange but still exciting to experience. We continued to simultaneously pleasure each others' assholes for several minutes until I was too turned on to handle the foreplay any longer.