By Any Other Name

by Simonis

A sequel to "Gathering Intel."

rated NC-17

Pairing: Michel/Nice

Summary: Nice and Michael get away for a time

By Any Other Name

by Simonis

Head to "chucklehead" again, he noted correctly. "All right…let's tell it straight out- By your looks, your words, you think of me, see me as… a cold, slightly pampered elitist, young upstart. A royalist, an aristocratic English son-of-a-bitch; a deliberately arrogant bastard- a puppy that thinks that he can walk on water. One who has the 'nerve' to treat you like his piss is as miraculous as water from the river Jordan," Colin's tone was decidedly and purposefully "university."

"Covered all of the little bases, haven't I…Operations? Yet, do you not see," Colin's voice stayed academic, "that such an expenditure of energy-emotional energy is wasteful…and unprofessional-not in that you're hurting my feelings or interfering with me getting my job done. I know how to do what I have to do, to get things done. I can work with you, around you, or roll on top and over you- sorry, no pun intended." Colin made his eyes smolder a bit just to nag him.

"So take a tip- you better get hip… If you expend so much enmity with a 'friendly,' what do you have left for the enemy- you need a cool, not a … 'hothead'," the word "chucklehead," was on his tongue; he made an effort to restrain from using it, "to deal with them. The wild POW 'Nam vet act is not going to cut it. Accept that I am from a 'friendly,' that I am a free man, your peer; deal with me that way, you'll preserve your health. If not…well, remember…I get paid and frankly, I do enjoy our volatile sessions- shows me and everyone else higher up, on your end especially, whose…balls simply won't crack under pressure."

Colin left, knowing that Operations was going to take an hour or so for himself; a good, stiff, no, several drinks were in order.

*******

"Ohhhh…" Madeleine could hardly wait, shoving Colin into her office. "You, you…are absolutely…a master of cruelty." Her voice betrayed the ecstasy that she simply could not hide. "He'll be impossible to deal with for days- will have to see…yes, four cancellations this week alone and more, after that. I'll suggest to him that he do them himself, then we'll all not have to walk on eggshells around here.

"Time to roll over and beg, my dear," Colin said coolly, checking his watch. "You saw it all- I'm a free man- do it if it will make you feel better- the answer is still…no."

"I'm not trying to tempt fate, I do not want to alienate you," she gazed into his incredible agate eyes, one's that she craved even more when they were cold and cynical towards her than any other man's eyes that were filled with desire. "I'll take you…as you are."

"For now," Colin finished her thought.

"Take him tonight…you can always think of me…I can't stop that. He cannot read your mind- give him a night to remember. Well, time is money- I'm on my way to make some. It was interesting…if not a pleasure. Good day."

He left her office, going out of Section without a backward glance.

That was weeks, almost two months ago. Colin found himself on the California highway driving up from San Francisco; he had rested there for a day or so after his drive up from Los Angeles, towards Pt. Reyes, which was just north from his layover stop. He was driving a green Volvo sedan, very square, some people would say, but he liked it, what else mattered? He had rented it new, viewing it as practical. First of all, it was a neutral color, a good choice in the gangbanging world that he sometimes traversed in. Next, it was a "money" color; a pretty green, which was one of his favorite colors. Last, it reminded him of the color of Michel's own incredible eyes- a juicy reminder of what was yet to come on his journey.

A nip in the autumn air did not bother him, he knew that Michel had rented a chalet between the dark forest and the ocean. One would have to go inland; the chalet was set way inland from the main road. The trees along this road were large and dark, the atmosphere quiet and tranquil. He was dressed in his neutral gray slacks and sweater, comfortable, conservative clothing. His CD player was on, he was listening to the song that his fit his mood, 'Giving him something he can feel,' by the group, En Vogue. He parked his vehicle and with an overnight bag in tow, he walked down the shady road to the house. Michael opened the door; he was dressed in black, in black, charcoal jeans and a dark green sweater that highlighted his eyes.

"I feel like you're looking at me as if I am the 'big, bad wolf' in 'grandma's' house," Michael alluded to the fairy tale.

"Well…." Colin replied coolly, "you are bad…in bed…and you are most definitely a wolf…and as for the other…" he merely put his palms together in front of him, then separated them, spreading them out horizontally, opening a wide space in between-his eyes twinkled with mischief.

"…And you want it too, exaggerated or not. Well…that was too funny, ma Coeur, and too bad…you made me laugh. Now you'll have to wait awhile."

"Faith, my repertoire must be getting stale if I cannot 'flag' your interest," Colin replied matter-of-factly.

"Get inside, Nice, put the bag down- shut the door. You have no shame…Mon Dieu, even in this wilderness…we are not the only two men around here, you know," Michel laughed softly as Nice complied.

When he got inside, Michel was still laughing when he drew near Nice to put him into his arms. "You warm my heart, Nice… honestly, I love you to death." He took the time to kiss him delicately, yet with a determined purpose.

"Oh, I can tell, my own lionheart," Nice said after a while, stepping back slightly for a breath; his eyes smoldered as he cast a quick look downward and up again over Michel's warm, loving body. "You have a present…for me- I could say that you have 'upped' the 'ante.'" It was as if they had never left their suite at the Four Seasons Clift Hotel. Their clothing was soon in a neat bundle on the chair in the bedroom- Michael and Colin were now on leave, while Michel and Nice got straight to work.

"I must find a way to silence you," Michel teased.

"Not like that, you sound just like Madeleine- faith," Nice said, "she'd sell her soul, if she had one, just to be where you are right now."

Michel's eyes grew wide-her?

"I have never- would never….never, ever. I'd sooner take a eunuch's blade." Nice said firmly.

"Non!" Michel, said, cradling Nice's testicles tenderly, possessively. "I am caressing the true crown jewels of England," he whispered into Nice's ear, causing him to laugh softly; then, Michel kissed him on the lips, bidding him to open his mouth.

"I don't want a fair hair of your head harmed, let alone..." Michel hugged him around his waist tightly, protectively.

"Chill, Michel," Nice replied softly, but with concern. "I take good care of myself…mercy, you take some of my humor too seriously. I'm careful, besides, she's my best insurance in there, among other things. Stuff work, I came here to play- besides, it's boxers, chum, not briefs like you wear, that keep my toys at the right temperature."

"I promise not to burn you…ma Coeur. I'll let you be the first to dig for 'buried treasure,'" Michel's hand went to his little violet-black lacquer box, one embossed with a simple gold trim. He opened it to give his beloved a condom or "sheath," as Nice liked to call them. He handed it to him, then placed Nice's hands on his buttocks, knowing just how much Nice craved that firm, curved, succulent flesh.

"Only with you…" Nice kissed him, motioning Michel to lie on his flat stomach, "do I give in…as a rule, I do not do requests…"

Nice made it slow and he was gentle, but Michel's skin, his shoulders and chestnut hair, his intoxicating scent as well as those delicious nether curves forced him to pick up his pace. "When…I said…I liked…to go…long distance, why did you…assume…that I just meant…running…" Nice breathed out his words in between strokes. He was drenched in sweat- arching up, then reaching down; finally, at almost the last second, he put a thick towel onto Michel's shoulder so that as he climaxed and bit down on the shoulder, it would not wound Michel.

"Calling me Bela," Michel said, as they laid back on their backs in the large bed a while afterward. "Glad you did not leave a mark- how could I have explained it?"

"Is that not why you wear those dark, covering sweaters and jackets?"

"Not a mark," Nice checked him thoroughly. "I ought to do the same, but your skin, like pure silk…I intend to feast on it all…from head to foot," Michel said and he proceeded to do just that.

"Your toys…so…so… I just love ample…lavish gifts," Michel kissed him all over from the head down, then from the ankles up. He gave a sigh as his lips went up from Nice's long, graceful inner thighs up to the base of his phallus, which was proud and quite erect. "Under…the spreading…chestnut tree…" Michel kissed, then teased it, licking it with a flick of the tip of his tongue. Nice was burning- damn it to hell, he thought, Michel was a sorcerer, he could barely think in words; he could feel a volcanic-type eruption in the making. "Patience…" Michel blew a cool breath upon the phallus, continuing to kiss and lick around the root, tickling the ash blond hairs and laughing like a naughty little boy who has successfully stolen the last cookie in the jar.

"I am…going to see," Michel said tauntingly, "just how…much…you can…tak…Ohhhh- you do maintain- you do not…you never disappoint, mon amour," he breathed, impressed. Michel's words were seductive; with any other man, himself included, he knew that the battle would have been lost- but then he knew of Nice's "unyielding iron" will; however, he had just only experienced it, he mused, from a mental or emotional point of view. Michel finally leaned up and over, pulling his lover up to place him so that his mouth could fully take in Nice's anguished member-allowing it to release, without any further teasing, in peace. Then, as his beloved had barely time to return to earth, Michel cradled him gently, positioning him in order to assuage his own inflamed organ. After obtaining and donning another sheath, he proceeded to claim Nice's vitals, possessing him to the fullest measure. To him, Nice was like a drug- inside or on his lover's body, he simply could not get enough and their love only made him want more- he barely took the time to continue to think as Eros claimed them both again.

It was sometime later that they sat in their robes, bathed and refreshed, both of them looking into the fire in the fireplace. Michel loved how the blaze caught and highlighted Nice's hair and eyes. "I promise you, I shall fight not to be a slave in spirit," Michel murmured and hugged him with all the love he felt, glorifying in Nice's strength, eager to give back to him.

Nice was the silent one now; he looked seriously into the fire, thinking about the future. "You have my heart, Michel, that part of me…I can never nor do I want to give it to another man. Our love will sustain us-together we shall be strong. I promise you not to be reckless in my freedom so that we can stay together. There is no free…nor slave…we are both linked by love, my dear, my own, my brave lionheart," Nice kissed him tenderly, his lips gentle as a breeze- the bond was sealed in this part of his life, no more words were needed. They would both rest, to play- another day.

Fin