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Author's Voice of Warning (aka Author's Note): English is not my first language; it's German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize. The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are.....
Background: Chris and Ezra are shape shifters, and a bond forms between them. Ezra becomes the last member of Chris' team in law enforcement.
Link to the official Boarderlines site: http://home.arcor.de/larabee/mag7/m7slfic.html
Ezra was busy filing records of his latest case, grumbling to himself. Travis was doing this on purpose. He was keeping him in this office out of spite. There was no other explanation for it. He had worked on this for weeks! He had done everything humanly possible, had spent two weeks undercover on a garbage hole of an asteroid, had talked to the scum of humanity, and he had delivered results. Buck, Nathan and Josiah were currently picking up on his leads, following a trail of smugglers who were fencing stolen parts for jump engines. Ezra's job was over, but the Judge insisted on his written reports, as well as on the cleanly filed evidence by the end of the week. Ezra had mountains of evidence. Some small, some oral, some on tape, some in form of odd little scribbles, and it was stupefying work to get it all in order. He would have asked for help, but there was also his pride.
So his frustration mounted and he was cursing Travis at every opportunity. He would be stuck in office for the next days, around the clock, and he had already written off any free time with Chris. Larabee himself was doing errands, picking up what the others sent as chunks of information, and constructing the final case. He would be coordinating every move his team made, without Ezra now, and if they were lucky, in two more weeks, they would have the smugglers. Another team was on stand-by for a pincer movement on the main base when the signal was given.
Ezra sighed and shoved a disc folder into the filing cabinet, with a bit more force than necessary. He hadn't seen Chris since his return. There had been glimpses of blond hair, a dark uniform, as the team leader had walked through the office room, but that was about it. And since they had the agreement to keep the shields up on cases, he didn't even have that luxury. Yes, the Bond was there, the reassuring presence in the back of his mind, but he missed the personal touch.
Ezra was in the middle of going through a pile of data disks, all in need of translation, when the door to his office opened. He glanced up from where he stood over an open drawer, expecting mail service, one of the assistants, just about anyone, but not him.
Chris Larabee strode into the borrowed office room and closed the door behind him, locking it in one smooth move. Dressed in his Agency uniform, the man looked every bit the authority figure he was. Chris was definitely a uniform type. Now that impressive figure strode up to him, the face expressionless, but there was something in those eyes that lit a fire in Ezra.
"Chris?" he asked carefully.
"Drop them," Larabee growled, his voice leaving no doubt that it wasn't a suggestion. He had taken off his uniform jacket, draping it over the visitor's chair.
And Ezra dropped his shields. He gasped as he felt white-hot lust course through him. A pair of lips slanted over his and his hands clenched into the shirt of his lover as he was thoroughly kissed. The leaner, taller man pressed up against him, only lessening the intense kiss as he came up for air.
Ezra had no idea what was going on. It was the first time Chris had ever come to him in the office, had ever done something that intense in a public place, but the next move wiped his mind blank. Larabee swiftly opened his crisp white shirt, then undid the pants, and sank down in front of him.
Oh .... my.... gawd...., was all Ezra was able to think, then rational thinking left him.
Chris, his commanding officer, his team leader, his soul partner and Bonded, his lover. Kneeling in front of him; it was sensually erotic already. Stirring him in a way Ezra hadn't thought possible. His lust grew and he twitched his hips, only to be stilled by two strong hands on his hips. The link was doing its share of sending spikes of undisguised need and desire through him, firing him up, making his blood boil. Chris was doing the rest as his lips, tongue, fingers... everything, was working on the hardness in front of him. Ezra's head thudded against the wall, eyes screwed shut, and he wrapped his fingers into the blond hair.
And Chris didn't hurry. He was taking his sweet time. Ezra's mouth was open, he was breathing in harsh little gasps, and his legs were starting to tremble. When one of those talented fingers, slick with his own juices, went deeper, Ezra gave a little hiccupping cry and his legs gave way.
He sank down the wall, Chris carefully guiding him. Ezra lay on the floor, Chris between his legs, and all he could think of was the pleasure this was giving him.
<If you... don't..... make me.... come> he managed, voice failing <I'll....r...resign>
A chuckle answered that threat and Chris continued his slow torture. Gawd, he was dying here. He was dying! The finger was back, playing idle little games, and Ezra lifted his hips off the floor, bucking, whimpering in need. Chris was doing this at his own leisure, his other hand stroking a thigh, a side, even reaching for a nipple.
<Pleeeeeazzzz!> Ezra begged. <Chris, now!>
Chris let his tongue run up the full length, a wicked expression in his hazel eyes. He finally took pity on his writhing, pleading lover, taking him to the peak and letting him go over the edge. Ezra held back his howl of pleasure, clenching his jaw so hard he thought he heard teeth crack, but he couldn't alert the whole office floor to what was going on here.
For a while, he just lay there, limp, breathing harshly, trying to get his racing heart back to normal speed. Lips caressed his chest, moving further up, catching his own lips, and he let his tongue swirl in a lazy dance with his lover's.
"Feeling better?" Chris asked, smiling wickedly.
Ezra smiled. "Much." He gave him another kiss. "Thanks."
He received a smile in return and Chris got up slowly, holding out a hand to help him. Ezra staggered a bit, still feeling weak, but the strong arms curling around his waist kept him from falling. He held on to the familiar body, reveling in the feeling of warmth.
<Have to go> Chris murmured, regret in his voice.
<I know> Ezra smiled.
<This is only a down payment for later> he promised huskily.
<Hope so> was the equally husky reply.
"You are out of uniform, Agent Standish," Chris growled into his ear, nipping at one tantalizing ear.
"We'll talk about this conduct later." Chris withdrew, a hot promise in his eyes.
Ezra gave him a lazy, seductive smile, wriggling into his pants. Then his lover unlocked the door and left. Ezra exhaled slowly, still feeling heated, but his frustration was almost gone, as was his anger at Travis.
"Now there's a remedy for work stress," he murmured as he made himself presentable again, cleaning up his office.
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