Lockdown

Lockdown by Augusta Li, Eon de Beaumont

Phaze www.phaze.com

Copyright ©2008 by Augusta Li and Eon de Beaumont

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Lockdown by Augusta Li, Eon de Beaumont

CONTENTS Lockdown About the Authors ****

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Lockdown by Augusta Li, Eon de Beaumont

Published by Phaze Books Also by Augusta Li and Eon de Beaumont Celeste (Augusta only) ****

**** This is an explicit and erotic novel intended for the enjoyment of adult readers. Please keep out of the hands of children. www.Phaze.com 4

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Lockdown by Augusta Li, Eon de Beaumont

Lockdown a Yaoi HeatSheet by AUGUSTA LI EON DE BEAUMONT [Back to Table of Contents]

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Lockdown by Augusta Li, Eon de Beaumont

Lockdown copyright 2008 by Augusta Li and Eon de Beaumont All rights reserved under the International and PanAmerican Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. A Phaze Production Phaze Books 6470A Glenway Avenue, #109 Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222 Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC. To order additional copies of this book, contact: [email protected] www.Phaze.com 7

Lockdown by Augusta Li, Eon de Beaumont

Cover art © 2008 Edited by Jade Falconer eBook ISBN-13: 978-1-59426-873-1 eBook ISBN-10: 1-59426-873-8 First Edition-April, 2008 Printed in the United States of America 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Lockdown by Augusta Li, Eon de Beaumont

This is exactly what they all said would happen, InvinciBoy thought as he sailed across the cavernous, octagonal room. His back collided with a window-sized monitor and his tailbone landed hard on the control panel perpendicular to it amidst a shower of sparks. Burning wire smell filled his nostrils. His head throbbed to the rhythm of the blinking amber warning lights. Blood clotted in his dirty-blond hair and streamed into his blue eyes. Before he made it to his feet, the dark-haired man he struggled against coiled him in the smoky tendrils—the physical manifestation of his power and pinned his arms to his sides. The insubstantial, charcoal wisps with dragon heads wound around his legs and lifted him into the air. Invinci-Boy writhed, his shiny yellow boots dangling two feet above the floor. "Don't try to do this by yourself," his colleague The Lumberjack had said over his communicator a few hours before. A call had come in to headquarters that a new nuclear power facility had been breached by an intruder. The plant, hidden on the northernmost tip of Hokkaido, Japan, had been designed to run strictly through the use of sophisticated robots and computers. No human staff needed risk their safety. Scientists bragged that the self-contained industrial unit couldn't be penetrated by any of the various terrorist groups plaguing the world. In five years, they said, similar plants would provide perfectly safe, pollution-free energy to the human race. Obviously, they'd been wrong. Invinci-Boy, just finishing a mission in North Korea, offered to make the hour-long flight 9

Lockdown by Augusta Li, Eon de Beaumont

to Japan's chilly north coast and capture the trespasser. If extremists gained control of the plant, the situation could easily spiral into a catastrophe: a Three Mile Island or worse. "What are you trying to prove?" Ms. Amazing had scolded. The miniscule image of her on his wrist crossed its arms. Though they'd spoken only that morning, the conversation with his teammates felt distant to Invinci-Boy now, as if it had happened years, not hours, in the past. "Wait for your father," Lumberjack urged. "It'll end in disaster if you go alone. Look what happened last time you risked an operation solo—" He'd torn off his wrist communicator and flung it into the North Sea. He'd never hear the end of it when, and if, he made it out of here. If his adversary had his way, though, Invinci-Boy might not have to worry about the taunts and Itold-you-so's of his peers. The slender, black-clad man made a fist, tightening Invinci-Boy's magical bonds, crushing his ribs and restricting his breathing. He sauntered across the polished concrete floor toward the young hero, grinning. A chin-length lock of hair obscured his right eye. The rest of his black tresses stood out behind his head in short spikes. Invinci-Boy flexed his thighs and calves until he thought the muscles would tear. The sky-blue spandex he wore stretched and ripped. He felt the mystical fetters weaken and dissolve, freeing his legs. The other man, his attention on Invinci-Boy's face, didn't notice. As soon as the criminal came near enough, Invinci-Boy kicked him in the diaphragm with all his strength. The svelte line of his body doubled over as it flew backward ten feet. He crashed into another large screen, cracking it, 10

Lockdown by Augusta Li, Eon de Beaumont

before crumpling on the floor. Struggling to breathe, the man pushed himself up on his hands and knees. Before his rival could stand, Invinci-Boy drove his heel into the other man's ribs. A shower of bloody froth shot from the man's lips, and he collapsed on his side and drew his knees to his chest. Invinci-Boy wiped his own bleeding face with the back of his hand. When the man rolled and tried to push himself up on his elbows, the young hero kicked him back down. Exhilaration multiplied Invinci-Boy's already phenomenal strength. He'd succeeded in subduing the only man to ever elude his father, the famous Captain Invincible. Sputtering in a ball at Invinci-Boy's feet was Taro Miyake, Excellent First Son, Bright, Shining Prince of the Three Houses. Though Miyake looked a young twenty, he'd tormented Invinci-Boy's father over thirty years before. Fathered by a kami on a turnof-the-century English villainess, a woman who could transform into mist, Taro became heir to both his mother's shrewd intellect and his immortal father's limitless supernatural powers. He hadn't put the deadly combination to waste. Taro controlled nearly all criminal activity in Japan, China, and Southeast Asia. His bold, grandiose crimes in America and Europe were almost as legendary as his ability to evade capture. Most of the world lived in fear of his unpredictable whims. Until now. Finally, Invinci-Boy thought. I've finally done something that the old man can't top. Let's see him belittle this achievement. He knelt down beside Taro's still body. Like he'd always done, the criminal genius and half-demon 11

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sorcerer wore custom-made black clothes: a sleeveless silk blazer and tie over a tight fishnet shirt today. Black make-up lined his fluttering eyelids. Aside from a few cuts and bruises, Taro's face was perfect enough to grace the cover of any magazine, part of the reason Captain Invincible referred to his nemesis as "pretty boy," among other, nastier things. Just as Invinci-Boy was about to seize Taro's wrist, the other man opened his eyes, smiled, and lifted his left hand. A dusk-blue stream of gunpowder-scented light hit Invinci-Boy in the face and knocked him backward. His head smacked the hard floor. Pain erupted in his skull. His inherited resilience saved Invinci-Boy from losing consciousness, but he needed a few seconds to clear the sparkles from his vision. By the time he sat up, Taro had run halfway down the long hallway leading from the computer room to the reactor. The strobe of the lights made him appear to leap from one shadow to the next. Pride and fear of his father's criticism crowded out InvinciBoy's soreness and nausea. He hauled himself up, choked back the bile rising in his throat, and pursued his foe to the massive, metal cylinder that sat fenced off in the center of a room as big as a football field. Taro stood rubbing his temples, hips resting against the barrier around the reactor casing. He swayed slightly, like he might pass out again. The pool of darkness at his feet blinked in and out of existence with the lights. "Surrender, Taro!" Invinci-Boy yelled, planting his fists on his waist and trying to look heroic even as Miyake's silhouette wavered in his concussed vision. 12

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The beautiful, dark man sighed so heavily that his whole body inflated and then slouched. "My name is not Tarot," he said in a velvety voice. "Not like the silly fortune-telling cards. It's tah-ROW, Invinci-Boy. It means—" "Excellent First Son. I'll make sure your prison warden knows that," the hero said. "Please," Taro replied. "Enough with the ridiculous lines. This isn't a Saturday morning cartoon. Speaking in that way might suit your father, but you sound like an ass." Irate, wounded from the gibe Taro had delivered precisely where it hurt most, Invinci-Boy hurled himself toward the villain so fast the light bulbs on the wall shattered as he passed them. Just as he was about to tackle his foe, Taro whispered a word. Ephemeral wisps orbited his body, and then congealed at his feet into a puffy, glimmering dark cloud. Tongues of lightning flickered beneath it. The shimmering mass shot the villain up into the air, causing Invinci-Boy to somersault into the reactor housing. His solidity and mass creased the side of the cylinder, making it screech and crumple like an aluminum can. The flashing lights changed from yellow to red. An artificial feminine voice repeated, "Reactor breach. Possible contamination. Lockdown," in English, French, German, Japanese, Russian, Swedish, and several other languages Invinci-Boy couldn't identify. Looking up a few feet to where his enemy hovered, Invinci-boy met Taro's eyes for a meaningful second, and then both men hurried back up the hall toward the control room. Though he flew at top speed, Taro sailed past Invinci-Boy, riding the cloud like a 13

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skateboard, the strand of long hair flapping beside his face. Shards of glass eddied in their wake. Neither was fast enough. By the time they reached the main entrance, a thick slab of metal had blocked the door. Invinci-Boy punched it as hard as he could without leaving so much as a dent. He kicked it and pressed against it with his shoulder, but it wouldn't yield. Invinci-Boy could hurl a school bus half a mile, but he couldn't even scratch the barrier. He couldn't imagine what the door was made of. The engineers who'd designed the place to be airtight and disaster-proof had known their jobs. Panting from the exertion, he turned to Taro. "Cast a spell on it or something," he said. The other man balked at being commanded. "Neither one of us will be able to get out," Invinci-Boy reasoned. "Very well. Stand back," Taro said, his cloud dissolving into a swarm of azure sparks. He landed lightly and took a deep breath. He stretched his slender fingers and shot a fountain of red embers toward the metal slab. Heat so intense it hurt whizzed past Invinci-Boy's face. The miniscule comets bounced off the door and fizzled on the floor. Next he tried lightning that made Invinci-Boy's hair stand straight out from his body, and then the smoky coils he'd used earlier. When he widened his stance, closed his eyes, and made a fist, the metal shuddered and moaned, but held. Taro tried again, grasping his left wrist in his right hand to steady it. A tremor spread from his arm to his chest until his whole body convulsed. The metal rippled for a split second, jiggling like a 14

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piece of gelatin, but returned to solidity. "I can't believe it," Taro gasped. Both men raced to the emergency exit opposite the main door, only to find it battened down and as impregnable as the first. They circled the room, running their palms over the walls to detect any opening. But the robot staff didn't mind the windowless gloom that gave the plant the feel of a huge mausoleum. Invinci-Boy paced from one door to the other, kicking each one when he reached it. "Maybe we can bust out through the walls," Invinci-Boy suggested. A steady, bluish glow from the long, slender bulbs high above them finally replaced the blinking red lights that had felt like they were pounding against his eyeballs. "I wish you luck," Taro said. "The walls are twenty feet of concrete covered with ten feet of steel." "Really? How do you know?" "I broke in here, didn't I?" Taro smiled and sat lotus-style on the floor. Using so much power had left him shaky, sweatglazed and pallid. In a facility designed to be manned by robots, chairs were unnecessary. "Why did you break in here?" Invinci-Boy asked, stretching his legs out in front of him and resting on his palms. Like Taro, Invinci-Boy's efforts had exhausted him. "Ransom?" Taro laughed. The injuries Invinci-Boy had inflicted, the cuts and swollen lips, had healed. "I have more money than you can even comprehend. No. All of these scientists and government officials have been boasting on television about how nobody can get into this facility. I only wanted to show them that they were wrong. The world should have, and 15

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maintain, a healthy respect for me. I am half divine, you know." "I know." In the icy light, with his slender arms resting in his lap and his almond eyes glittering beneath their shadowed lids, Taro certainly looked supernatural. No wonder he thought human laws shouldn't apply to him. "So if you're so smart, how do we get out of here?" "We don't," Taro said. "I assume any damage to the reactor core results in the computer system sealing the whole plant, to prevent radiation leakage. Probably someone will send a team to determine whether it's safe to open up, and then they'll shut down the system from somewhere else, likely another control center far away. We're fortunate that our bodies won't suffer radiation poisoning." "Shit," Invinci-Boy said. "Oh, chin up," Taro said, false-sweetly. "I'm sure your daddy will come save you long before that." "Shut your mouth!" Invinci-Boy shouted. "God, I'd rather die down here than have to listen to that old bastard lecture me about procedure! He'll criticize every move I made." "The man does go on," Taro said. "You have no idea! You didn't live with him. I'll never, never live this down." "So just don't listen," Taro said, inching closer to InvinciBoy. "That's how I always handled your father's pompous speeches. Remember something pleasant. Block it out." "Yeah, right." "My other strategy," Taro continued, "was, of course, just to leave." 16

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"Well, that's what my mother did," Invinci-Boy said. "Thanks for reminding me." "Sorry." "It's not your fault," Invinci-Boy said. For some reason, he couldn't stop talking. None of this was any of Taro's business. Taro probably didn't care, though he feigned interest. Taro was his nemesis, for god's sake. But it felt like somebody had cut the brake lines on his mouth, and he sped on, gaining momentum and losing control. He'd never been permitted to complain about his father. Anyone he mentioned Captain Invincible's shortcomings to told him not to be harsh, told him his father was a great man, and to be proud. "You're not the one who criticized everything she did and said, the way she walked, the way she cooked, the clothes she wore! Nobody could've lived up to my father's ideal. She went halfway around the world to get away from him. She owns a café on Santorini now, with her girlfriend. He even turned her into a lesbian." "People don't 'turn into' lesbians, Invinci-Boy," Taro offered gently. "Can you please stop calling me that stupid name, Taaahhh-ROW?" Invinci-Boy snapped, exaggerating the pronunciation of the other man's treasured title. "What would you prefer?" "My name's Brian. Invinci-Boy! I'm twenty-two, for crying out loud. It's just another way for my father to show how inferior I am." Taro slid closer, so that the tops of his feet, knees, and shins pressed against Brian's calf. He didn't say Don't be silly, 17

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Invinci-Boy. Your father has done everything for you. Instead, he extended his hand, but Brian only stared at it. "This is the first time we're meeting, Brian," he said. Brian took Taro's hand, and Taro sandwiched it in between both of his, shaking for a long time before letting go. "It doesn't seem like it," Brian said. "My dad's been talking about you since I can remember." "What did he say?" Taro asked, beaming. "Nothing good." Pansy, pretty boy, and little faggot were the terms Captain Invincible used most when discussing his arch-enemy. Bright Shining Princess made Brian's father laugh at his own wit every time. Queer and cocksucker came out after the famous super-hero had a few vodka Martinis. "Were you afraid of me?" Taro asked, smiling with delighted anticipation. Brian sat up and folded his legs like Taro's. He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "Actually, I admired you." "Really?" "Yeah. When I was kid, you were the only person I knew of that would stand up to my dad. Everybody was always kissing his ass because he's Captain Invincible. Nobody ever had the balls to tell him he was an arrogant jerk. Except for you. He'd get so mad when you beat him, or got away. It was even harder on him because he's this big, burly super-hero and you're, um, you know." "Gay?" "Yeah." "It's not a dirty word, Brian." 18

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Changing the subject, Brian said "And you always dressed however you wanted. Not like me with this stupid cape. I hate this thing. But Father insisted. I'm a blue-jeans kind of a guy." "So wear blue jeans." Brian shook his head. "Dad would never allow it." "But you're a grown man." "You don't get it," Brian told Taro. "You really don't. Remember when that fashion magazine wrote an article about you, probably ten years ago?" Taro sat a little straighter and smiled. "Yes. They tried to arrest me in Milan after the photo shoot. It was much fun." "I bought that issue," Brian said. "I was terrified, but I was curious about you. Always in those dark colors and eyeliner, looking so good they talked about your fashion sense on the news as much as the horrible crimes you committed. You were like a rock star. Kids I went to school with tried to dress like you. So, I rode my bike to a newsstand all the way on the other side of town, just so nobody who knew my father saw me. I snuck into the house and hid it under my bed. I only looked at it when Dad wasn't home." "Wait a second," Taro said, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. "You mean to say that you kept half-naked pictures of me under your bed? Why?" Brian remembered the centerfold: Taro in nothing but a faux-fur coat lying on a brocade sofa, his head hanging over the arm and the then-long hair spilling down. Only a carefully placed, dinner-plate-sized water lily saved the photo from being soft-core porn. He couldn't imagine that anyone in the 19

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world wouldn't have wanted to be on that couch with Taro. "You were everything I was afraid to be," he said. Unique. Mysterious. Unabashedly sexy. "Anyway, when Dad found it, he kicked my ass." "Figuratively?" "Nope. He beat the snot out of me. He asked if I was a girl, reading a magazine about dresses. He tore out the pictures, waved them in my face, and asked me if I thought they were cute. He accused me of being—" "I see," Taro said. Slowly, like a shadow lengthening with the retreat of the sun, understanding spread over his face. "But that's not why I kept the article!" Brian said quickly. "Of course not." "I date girls," Brian said. "I've seen," Taro said. "In the tabloids. Many famous women. You dated that tennis player. The singer. That woman who can breathe under water." "The Mermaid," Brian said, blushing. "Her name's Sheryl. Dad set us up, but we were mostly just friends. Went golfing together, but not much else. That's another thing about you. Whenever somebody sneaks a picture of you, you're always surrounded by two or three gorgeous guys. You never apologized or hid it, even with all the stupid jokes they make on those late-night shows. It's brave." "Why should I be ashamed? I'm the Shining Prince of the Three Houses. I'll do what I like," Taro said. "You shouldn't be ashamed either, Brian." When Taro touched Brian's cheek, the young hero slapped his hand away. "Are you calling me gay?" 20

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"It's not an insult," Taro said, rubbing his reddening knuckles. "Well, I'm not." Brian scrambled backward and stood up. He went to the metal door and placed his palms against it, pushing with every ounce of strength he owned. His feet slid backward, his shoulder muscles screamed, and sweat dripped on the embroidered "I" on his chest. Not until he felt Taro's light hand on his forearm did he stop. "Get off me," he panted, pushing the smaller man's chest. The final exertion cost him. Glitter leaked in from the edges of his vision, and his legs turned to rubber and gave out. He'd have knocked his head again if Taro's lean arms hadn't caught him around the waist and lowered him to the floor. "You're going to hurt yourself," he told Brian softly. Brian breathed deeply, willing away the vertigo, and said, "What do you care? We're enemies. If you're smart you'll kill me now, while you have the chance." "You claim to know all about me," Taro said, sitting on his heels. "You should know I only kill when it's deserved, and preferably a worthy adversary." Brian grasped a heavy electrical cord and towed himself up like a mountain climber, unsure if he could trust his legs. When he could support himself, he assumed his practiced stance: feet wide and hands on his hips. "You don't think I'm a worthy adversary, huh?" Taro sprung deftly and silently to his feet and stood close to Brian: too close. The obsidian buttons of his sleeveless jacket brushed against Brian's muscular chest. He raised his hand, like he'd touch Brian's face, but seemed to reconsider 21

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and thrust it into the pocket of his tight black pants. "You don't know how young you appear to my eyes," Taro said. His hair smelled of sandalwood. "Your greatest adversary is your own insecurity." "Oh, save it for a fortune cookie," Brian spat. He stomped over to the monitor least damaged by his brawl with Taro and pushed a large, orange button. Kanji he couldn't decipher labeled the other controls. The machine crackled, and rows of lime-green characters whizzed by too fast for Brian to focus on, let alone read. Exasperated, he punched the charcoal screen, cracking it to match the others. "There must be some way to override this," he said. "Must be." He was too proud to ask Taro to read the kanji. As if telepathic, the other man crept up behind him and said "It's just repeating the lockdown message we heard before. All we can do is wait." "I can't do that," Brian said, going to another station and pushing buttons at random. "It hurts my honor, too, Brian. To get trapped like this." To Brian's horror, Taro encircled his ribs with his arms and brushed the back of his neck with his lips. Spinning around, Brian yelled "I said don't touch me!" He grabbed Taro's shoulders and lifted him off the ground, shaking him as he screamed into his face. "I told you, I'm not—I'm not a—" "And you think that by breaking out of here and capturing me you'll prove it to your father? To yourself?" "Yes! He'll have to approve of me if I catch you!" 22

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Taro pushed Brian's hands off of his shoulders and grasped the young hero's chin. Brian tried to break away, but Taro held firmly and forced him to meet his dark gaze. "There are only two problems with your theory. The first is that I'm not going to let you capture me. The second is, no matter what you accomplish, you won't please your father. You're not going to find any peace until you accept yourself." "Don't you see I can't?" A rush of emotion, as sudden and devastating as a typhoon, overwhelmed Brian. Taro looked up at him, concern pouring from his beautiful eyes. Part of him wanted to confide in the Excellent First Son. Taro had also killed dozens of people and orchestrated the collapse of whole governments. It was still difficult for Brian to believe his compassionate charade. Taro also spoke truths Brian had known in his heart for years: his father would never be proud of him, no matter what he did, and he'd never be happy living only to impress the old prick. And yet, the yearnings of his soul, the idea of his father's, and the world's, reaction to them, terrified Brian. Confusion, conflicting desires, and longburied guilt brought tears to his eyes. "I'm not flashy and daring like you are," he told Taro, his voice cracking. "I can't deal with what people will say. Of course you can handle it! You—You're a god!" "Half," Taro whispered, mock-humbly. "But you are brave and strong as well." "I'm not!" A pain in his chest and belly made Brian drop to his knees. His face slumped into his palms and he cried out years of resentment. Taro crouched down and held him, and he struggled against the embrace for only a minute before 23

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burying his face between the other man's neck and shoulder. Maybe he was Taro Miyake, an international criminal, a killer, and his father's greatest antagonist, but Brian had no one else in the world to unburden his heart to. Any shred of stoicism he'd shown had evaporated as soon as he started to sob. Since he couldn't feel more foolish, he felt less. He chose not to care about his image or the irony of the situation and just inhale Taro's fragrance and feel his hand on the back of his head. Here, completely isolated from the outside, they could be friends for a few hours. The rules of the real world could be suspended. Brian's eyes felt swollen when he lifted his head, and he knew his face was flushed and streaked. But Taro kissed him anyway. For a second, mostly out of instinct, he fought: pulling away and pushing half-heartedly against the other man's chest. Taro's fingers laced behind Brian's neck, preventing his escape. The tip of his tongue pressed insistently against Brian's teeth until he opened them a crack. Black fingernails dug into Brian's curls and scratched his scalp. Brian opened his mouth a hair at a time, until his tongue met Taro's. Taro's mouth was warm and soft, his smooth, strong teeth contrasting in texture. He tasted spicyfloral, like a pepper-sprinkled violet, not quite human. Brian couldn't believe what was happening. He was kissing a man, and not just any man: a half-celestial super villain, a man whose beauty and rebellious pride he'd admired since adolescence. Taro's lips, his hot breath filling Brian's lungs, felt more right than he could've ever imagined. 24

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"This silly thing," Taro breathed near Brian's ear. "It doesn't suit you." He unsnapped Brian's cape and it fluttered to the floor behind him. Taro's hands moved over Brian's powerfully built ass and thighs, making the hero go rigid when they grazed the yellow briefs he wore over his body suit. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband and peeled the briefs to Brian's knees. Then he inched closer, so Brian could feel Taro's body reacting the same way as his own. Their groins pressed together as Brian fumbled with Taro's buttons. Taro wove his fingers into Brian's and guided his hands away from the blazer. "I'll do this," he said, loosening his tie. Red crescents spread from the corners of his small nose to the beaded earrings that dangled from his lobes. "You take care of your own clothes." Brian stood up, noticing that Taro had stopped undressing to watch him. Even though he possessed a physique a Greek god would envy, he felt self-conscious as he kicked off his boots and stepped out of his briefs. Taro smiled and pinned the long lock of hair behind his ear, uncovering his right eye. Slowly, with trembling hands, Brian unwrapped the tight blue unitard from his body. After Brian stood naked, insecure and fighting the urge to cover himself, Taro stripped for him. Without any shyness or shame, he removed his expensive attire, starting with his custom-made, pointy-toed shoes. His eyes never left Brian's face as he shed his snug trousers, mesh shirt, and blazer. Then he posed, arm held out to his sides, in a shaft of fluorescent light. If Brian had harbored any lingering doubts 25

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about his preferences, the sight of Taro's willowy, golden body drove them out like the dawn burning away the night's mist. His cock stood out, framed by the tiniest amount of black hair. Brian wrapped his hands around Taro's prominent hipbones and pulled him to him, savoring the inhuman smoothness of his skin. As Brian's hands explored Taro's ribs, the knobs of his spine, his silken stomach, and the lean crescents of his ass, he felt Taro's skin warming beneath his fingers, the blush spreading from his cheeks to cover his entire form. Their lips met again. Taro opened his mouth to allow Brian's tongue to delve toward his throat. Brian savored the immortal's floral taste, striving to lick the fiery flavor from Taro's teeth and palate. His breath reminded Brian of inhaling the smoke of incense; it lingered in his nose and on the back of his throat. Their cocks bumped against each other. Pebblefirm nipples brushed Brian's chest. He caught one between his thumb and finger and pinched playfully. Soon they dropped to the floor. Taro's body seemed small and fragile beneath Brian's bulk, and Brian held his weight on his elbows as he kissed Taro's neck and collarbone. Taro's nails opened thin gashes on Brian's back that healed as soon as they were made while their bodies ground together, limbs entangling. His hands touched Brian everywhere, making him shiver and squirm. Then Taro rolled so that Brian was under him. He pushed himself up on his palms and looked down at the young hero. He caressed Brian's chest and blew lightly across the patch of 26

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blond hair between his nipples, making it waver. Taro's hands hooked under Brian's knees and urged them up to his waist. "Hey, hold on," Brian said. "You're the pretty, delicate one and I'm the super-hero. Shouldn't you go on the bottom?" "No," Taro said, and Brian didn't protest. He wanted this, had always wanted it. He opened his legs a little further. "You're my first," he panted, holding his own ankles as Taro slid downward and moistened the gully between Brian's sculpted stomach muscles. The tip of his tongue darted over the groove on the underside of Brian's cock, coaxing out a pearly droplet that was quickly lapped away. Taro licked the seam between Brian's balls, and continued up his length, pausing to lavish attention on the shelf where Brian's head met his shaft. When he lifted his face, his lips and chin glimmered with sweat and saliva. A mischievous light flickered in his dark eyes. "I know," Taro said. "Are you asking me to be gentle?" "What? No! Just, just take me. Right now." Taro pulled Brian's cheeks apart and stared down at his crevice, considering it in a way that should have made Brian uncomfortable, but didn't. A black-nailed finger grazed his wrinkled opening and made Brian's muscles clench. The finger circled his anus, leaving him disappointed when it departed. Brian groaned and splayed his legs wider, arching his spine and driving his crack toward Taro's hand. Taro cupped his balls and held them with a pleasant pressure, but Brian wanted more. He wanted to lay complacent under the faraway steel rafters, with his body opened in invitation, and let 27

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Taro ravage him in every possible way. He wanted Taro inside him so badly he thought he'd go crazy. "What are you waiting for?" Brian hissed through clenched teeth. He tried to seize Taro's hips and pull their bodies together, but the villain evaded him as deftly as a firefly sailing between the clumsy fingers of a child. "It worries me," Taro said, "to try without any lube. Especially since you're a virgin. I don't want to hurt you, Brian." Brian laughed. "I'm practically indestructible," he reminded Taro. "I know," Taro said, frowning in a way that made him look impossibly young. "At least let me do this." He crouched within the M of Brian's legs, tucking his elbows up beside his waist and resting on his forearms. Balmy breath ruffled the gold hair on Brian's scrotum. Taro's tongue made a wide, slow sweep from Brian's tailbone to the base of his balls. Then he returned to his starting point and did it again, this time pressing against Brian's puckered opening as his tongue passed over it. With each teasing lick Taro dug a little deeper, wriggling inside Brian and circling his band of muscle. Finally he thrust his entire tongue in. Brian had never felt anything like the wiggling slipperiness, and scooted closer to Taro's face. Brian marveled at the thought of something as malleable as a tongue becoming so firm and unyielding. He gasped as Taro's tongue slithered deep inside for what seemed like a mile. Brian wondered if this were some secret power Taro hadn't shared with the world. Instinctively, Brian reached down to stroke Taro's ear. Taro slid his tongue in and 28

Lockdown by Augusta Li, Eon de Beaumont

out of Brian's tight ass, letting his saliva flow over his hole and between Brian's cheeks. It pooled beneath them, wetting the concrete. Brian's own moisture trickled in tear-sized beads and collected in his belly button. "God, that feels amazing," he panted. He'd never felt so irrationally excited. Unable to hold still, he squirmed on the floor, able to express his pleasure only in grunts and whimpers. Taro's lips and tongue retreated, leaving Brian's moist flesh chilly. As Taro stretched across Brian's chest to kiss him, he slipped two fingers into him, pressing slowly until his knuckles brushed Brian's balls. "And how does this feel?" he breathed against Brian's jaw. "Strange," he admitted, clenching his muscles together to squeeze Taro's hand. Taro's fingers curved upward and ventured further in, until they found Brian's gland and massaged it. A jolt of pleasure shot up Brian's body. No one had ever touched him this way before, and he couldn't believe the intense thrill the penetration produced. More semen escaped the tip of Brian's cock and he said "That's unh— incredible. I can't think; it's so good." His torso arched up, away from the floor, but Taro pinned his hips in place with his unoccupied hand. "And this?" Brian felt his hole stretching taut as another of Taro's fingers joined the first two. His back bowed further at the twinge. He could only groan in reply. A hot ball of tension gathered at Taro's fingertips and spread across Brian's pelvis, aching to be released. Taro was driving him mad, prolonging 29

Lockdown by Augusta Li, Eon de Beaumont

this thing that he'd secretly fantasized about for so long. Brian didn't want to rush; he wanted to savor all of the wonderful new emotions and sensations, but he craved Taro's body. He wondered if Taro, who had so many lovers, was as excited as he was. He hoped that even though it wasn't Taro's first experience, Taro found it somehow special. Since he seemed much more focused on Brian's pleasure than his own, Brian could only assume his erstwhile enemy cared more about him than just a convenient lay when there was nothing else to do. The way his hands moved, with careful caresses, almost reverent, assured Brian that the sorcerer felt at least kindness and attraction. For now, it was enough "Brian, are you ready?" "I want it, want you, so bad!" No one stood to overhear or judge his declaration, so Brian saw no reason to suppress his desire any longer. "Now?" In response Brian closed his large hands around the sleek, diagonal muscles of Taro's waist and jerked him forward. To catch himself, Taro slipped his hand from Brian's body and grasped both of Brian's shoulders. Brian's hands moved to Taro's hips, where they continued their attempt to heave Taro against, into, himself. The head of Taro's cock collided with his ass, but the criminal halted before penetrating Brian. He pressed against him, waiting for Brian's body to yield before entering. Slowly, gently, and expertly, he pressed his glans into the tight circle of Brian's hole. He paused, giving his lover time to adjust to the sensation, and then plunged in a fraction of an inch at a time. 30

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Carried on the zephyr of his ecstasy, Taro's eyes clamped shut and his neck stretched so that his face pointed toward the high ceiling. He moaned and buried himself in Brian's eager flesh until his sparse hair tickled the young hero's skin. His body formed the graceful arc of a reed bending in the breeze. He looked so beautiful that Brian's breath caught in his throat. Then, returning from bliss to lucidity for a moment, Taro looked down and said "Is this okay?" Shuddering at the invasion and feeling like he'd been torn in half, but more excited than he'd ever been in his life, Brian muttered "It hurts." "Should I stop?" "God, no." "Calm down, then," Taro said, smoothing the sweaty, blonde hair away from Brian's eyes and kissing his brow. "It will feel better if you let go." He remained still, watching Brian's face for cues. His satin hands stroked Brian's shoulders and thighs, wiping away his stress and discomfort. In no time Brian relaxed and the two arch-enemies kissed and stroked each other as they made love on the cold, cement floor of the power plant. Brian's legs wrapped around Taro and his hands clutched his narrow ribs. Their damp bodies, one broad and muscled as a bronze statue and the other ethereal and graceful as a moonlit wisp of cloud, sparkled in the artificial blue light. No one heard the cries of pleasure or the slap of skin on skin that echoed through the tomb-like structure. Nothing existed outside the desolate, concrete building. Unashamed, Brian grunted at the pang of Taro's first, halting 31

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thrusts and then moaned wantonly as he sped up. They weren't rivals just then; they weren't a hero and villain, just two men. There was no impending nuclear disaster and no team waiting at headquarters to scrutinize him. There were only smudged almond eyes, lips swollen from kissing, cheeks flushed from vigorous activity. Taro's nails skimmed Brian's calves as he moved inside of him. Every tiny sensation, every twitch of Taro's body, touch of his lips, or swish of his hair seemed to Brian the most perfect and important action in the world. He tried to notice everything, to imprint every detail permanently in his memory. "Taro, touch me," he pleaded. Taro's palm closed around the head of Brian's cock, squeezing hard. The pressure nearly made Brian come; he felt his penis skip in Taro's hand. But Taro let go and lifted his fingers to his mouth again. A gleaming strand of spit connected his hand to his inflamed lips, before it broke and he clutched Brian again. In rhythm with his moderate strokes, Taro pumped and churned Brian's cock until Brian thought he'd explode. His head thrashed from side to side. He groaned and muttered, his rapture stealing even the coherency to form words. A few minutes later Taro's warm, smooth hand gave Brian release. White ribbons splattered against his toned, tan stomach, but Taro kept rubbing him, milking every drop of fluid. Brian pulled him closer, nipping at his neck and tugging on his earring with his teeth. He steered Taro's hand away from his cock, unable to withstand any more stimulation. Taro sat up, braced his chest against the backs of Brian's thighs, 32

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and fucked him with short, quick strokes. His painted eyelids fluttered. Some Japanese words Brian didn't know tumbled from his lips. Warm wetness erupted inside Brian. Then Taro collapsed against Brian's broad chest and panted, his humid breath filming Brian's neck. The semen squished between their torsos, gluing them together. Afterwards, when they shivered, Brian folded his arms over Taro's back and covered them both with his lemoncolored cape, having found a use for the hated garment after all. They rested an hour and made love again. Just the memory of Taro's caresses, the scent of his hair and his sweat, the heat and stickiness of his body, made Brian's blood rush south. Noticing the protrusion against his belly, Taro propped himself up and smiled. Without a word he rolled away and knelt beside Brian, looking down to unapologetically admire the hero's blood-darkened, ample erection. He leaned forward and sucked on the head, harvesting the resulting precome. When he sat up he licked his lips with relish. Then he urged Brian on to his belly and up to his knees. With his opening still puffy, stretched and dewy with Taro's seed, Brian found Taro's entry smoother. He pushed back against him, enveloping Taro's cock and establishing a quick tempo. Brian's palms pressed against the impenetrable wall as Taro labored behind him. His balls bounced against Brian's, and his polished nails opened furrows down the long muscles of his back. "I hear something," Taro said breathlessly. He buried himself in Brian and held still. One hand rested lightly on the 33

Lockdown by Augusta Li, Eon de Beaumont

small of Brian's back, the other ceased its motion beneath him. "Listen." "Don't stop." "Brian, shh. Someone's coming. Probably to get us out of here." Brian had thought he'd be glad to finally hear those words, but they stabbed at his heart like a fork of lightning, and he caught himself thinking please, not yet. Come tomorrow. Next week. Never. He didn't want to return to the mundane world and its pain. Even so, the problems that had troubled him and seemed so insurmountable had become, over the last few hours, trivial. "Well, we'd better finish up," Brian said, grinning over his shoulder and pressing back against Taro, who gladly complied. Unwilling to relinquish him until the last possible moment, Brian held Taro on his lap and petted the crispy points on the back of his head. The side of Taro's cheek rested against his shoulder. "It's the time," Taro whispered. "What time?" "The time when we get dressed. And you say to me that when we meet again I'll get no special treatment. When we meet again, we'll be enemies." Brian squeezed Taro hard enough to shatter an ordinary mortal and tried not to cry. "Excellent First Son. Bright, Shining Prince of the Three Houses. You'd better be careful." "And why is that?"

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"Because," Brian said, kissing Taro's hairline, forehead and eyes. "If anyone finds out what happened here today, they might just say you did a good deed." "I can't have that. I'll have to be extra ruthless for a bit. To balance things out." "Imagine if we joined forces," Brian suggested. "I don't think so." "Hey, Taro?" "Hmm?" "What's it mean? Three Houses?" Taro sat up and stretched. He pointed to Brian, and then to the ceiling, and then to the floor. "See?" "Maybe a little," Brian said, reaching for his blue costume. "Brian, wipe your mouth. There's black make-up on your lips. As I told you, I'm a child of the Immortals. I have more tremendous power than you'd ever believe," Taro said as he tucked himself into his pants and zipped his fly. "I might believe it, now," Brian said. He drew Taro into his arms, to hold him one last time. Just then they heard a groan as the heavy metal barrier began to lift. Voices, sounding muffled through the thick alloy, shouted to each other in German, English, and Japanese. "I'll write to you in prison," Brian whispered quickly before releasing Taro and stepping into his boots. He left his cape crumpled in the corner. "Prison!" Taro chuckled. A team of people in Hazmat suits rushed in, waving clicking wands and holding flashlights. Taro winked at Brian, pushed the strand of hair in front of his eye, and raised his arms. With only a ringlet of smoke, like what remained when a candle was blown out, he disappeared. His 35

Lockdown by Augusta Li, Eon de Beaumont

musical laughter echoed through the halls for a few seconds after he'd gone, making Brian smile. "Son of a bitch!" Brian said. A petite blonde woman pressed a stethoscope to his chest. "You could have done that any time, couldn't you? Taro?" Several pairs of hands urged the young hero out of the plant, into the blinding light and cold, snow-flecked air. Many ambulances and military trucks waited outside the facility's chain-link fence. Among them, Brian noticed a familiar figure: a tall, broad-shouldered man in khaki pants and a brown leather jacket. His short, salt-and-pepper hair blew out behind him. Though he knew nothing about nuclear energy, he seemed to be directing the efforts of the soldiers, scientists, and doctors. "You are okay?" a Japanese doctor asked Brian. "Feel okay?" "Yes, thank you. I really do." He considered the slight ache he felt when he walked more of a souvenir than an injury. Also, the despair that usually descended upon him when he saw his father, the fear of the inevitable verbal battery, had disappeared, like smoke carried away by the wind. He had plenty of pleasant memories to focus on while Captain Invincible harangued him. "Invinci-Boy!" Brian's father yelled, stomping toward him. "Was Taro involved in this?" "Tah-Row, Dad," Brian said. He kept walking and didn't look back at the older super-hero. "Not like the deck of cards." 36

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"We've determined that no particles were released when the reactor housing was breached," said an elderly British woman in a wool hat. "It will take weeks of work to get the plant running again. But the damage was, shall we say, primarily cosmetic." "That's good," Brian said. "You know, I'm sure everything will be fine now." [Back to Table of Contents]

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About the Authors Augusta Li lives in a faerie-haunted wood in the mountains of Pennsylvania with various feline and human companions, permanent and stray. She is a freelance writer, artist, mask and costume maker. Her stories have appeared in anthologies and on some great websites. Eon de Beaumont is a frequent collaborator with Augusta Li. Lockdown is his first Phaze release.

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