Seventy-Two Hours Ch. 02

Which, in his compound and in his present form, he was.

Schooling his face into a mask of passivity, Justice asked, "What's nice?"

Saint's smile was devilish. His crystalline blues sparkled with mischief. "You."

But Justice was through playing games. The demon had already had his fun at Justice's expense once. From here on out, Justice was going to make sure he was off fucking limits. Axl's life depended on it.

And if that meant not leaving his room again, so be it.

"Where do you want the girl?"

"Bring her to me."

The first few steps were filled with stumbles as Justice half drug, half lugged the unresponsive girl towards Saint. After a few moments of the halting progress, he stopped and swept her feet off the floor. The second part of the journey across the huge room was completed much quicker without all the hindering delays.

He deposited the girl onto Saint's lap, careful not to let any part of himself touch the demon, then returned to Axl's side. He arrived just as Axl's eyes rolled into the back of his head and his legs gave out. Justice caught him before he hit the ground, sweeping him up against his chest like he had with the virgin.

Not waiting to be dismissed, he cradled his precious cargo tight and stalked to the room's exit.

Only to discover Bast now blocked the way out.

"Must we really do this again, Barbie? First you don't want me to come in, now you don't want me to leave. How bout you just do us both a huge favor and stay the fuck out of my way with your indecisiveness."

"The name is—"

"I don't give a shit what the fuck your name is, Bastard. Move. Your. Fucking. Ass. Now."

"Let him go," Saint said.

And go Justice did. Without a backwards glance.

But sight wasn't necessary for him to hear Saint's warning, "Dawn, Justice. I want him gone by dawn."

On reaching his room, Justice entered then kicked the door shut behind him. He laid Axl flat on his back on the bed and started removing his clothes. The winter coat was the first to go. Followed by the too big long sleeve shirt, the shoes and the socks. Justice unfastened the jeans and stood beside the bed carefully working on easing them down Axl's hips when the green orbs finally cracked open.

They locked onto Justice. Then Axl sat straight up, frantic. "How long have I been out? Oh, shit. Oh, shit. How long, J? Doesn't matter. I have to go. I have to—"

"What you have to do is rest. When's the last time you got some sleep, Axe?"

"I don't know, twenty-four, maybe thirty-six hours ago. Or it may have been as long as forty-eight. I honestly don't know when, but that's not what's important right now. What's important is that I still—"

"Have time."

"No, I don't," Axl moaned. Swinging his legs over the side of the mattress, he tried to stand but his unstable legs just barely supported his weight. He sank back to a sitting position and rubbed slow circles on his temples as he drew in a shaky breath. "Do you have any clue how hard it was to find those three virgins in this godforsaken city? It was damn near impossible! Everyone is having sex now! Everyone! Sixteen years olds, fifteen years olds, Jesus, even twelve years olds!"

"Shit, Axe, tell me you're not bringing him kids."

"What? No! I know I'm fucked in the head, J, but I'm not that screwed up." He laughed self-deprecatingly. "They've all been over eighteen so far. Which only makes it that much harder for me. And...and I still have to round up two more. Two more who've done nothing to deserve this punishment. Maybe I should just accept—"

"No!" Justice roared.

"Then I have to leave, Justice," Axl said quietly. "I have to leave right now so I can finish this horrible thing that I've started."

"You will leave, but not yet. Right now you're no good with the shape you're in. If you left, you'd get nothing else accomplished tonight. Rest for a little bit, then start again fresh tomorrow at dawn."

"But I—"

"Dawn, Axl. Trust me?"

As Axl's eyes widened in recognition, Justice knew he had him with those same two questioning words he had spoken to him so long ago. The same two words which had been the start of their relationship.

"Trust you," Axl said in the same unquestioning tone he'd used way back then. He lay down flat on his back. "I'll always trust you."

Justice resumed removing Axl's jeans, meeting no further resistance. He undressed Axl down to his boxers, then shucked most of his own clothing, leaving only his jeans on as he was commando and didn't want to discomfit either of them with his complete nudity.

"Roll onto your side," he commanded after clicking off the floor lamp.

But before he could climb onto the small bed, Axl asked, "You're keeping the jeans on?"

"If I take them off, I'll be bare assed."

"S'ok with me, J."

After the briefest of hesitations, the jeans were removed though Justice doubted the wisdom of doing so with the state of upheaval he already felt towards Axl. But the opportunity to feel his naked skin pressed against Axl's, to partially act on the thoughts which had plagued him for so long, was too much to resist. He spooned himself behind Axl, one arm acting as Axl's pillow, the other looped securely around Axl's waist, holding him tight.

This was the real thing. Flesh and blood. Not some carefully constructed, beautiful illusion of distress. And it felt so right to have Axl safe in his arms, back pressed close to Justice's chest, two hearts beating in sync.

He never wanted to let him go.

"Justice?" Axl whispered into the darkness.

"What's up?"

"I give you my word."

Tears burned Justice's eyes. He burrowed his face into Axl's neck and tenderly pressed a kiss there. "That's the best news I've received in a long time. Thank you."

For a long while they both lay there, neither saying anything more, neither falling asleep. Justice was acutely aware of each jump, each shift in position Axl made. The kid was way too wired.

What the hell, Justice decided after about twenty minutes. Axl needed to rest, but it wasn't going to happen in his present state. In order to rest, he needed to be relaxed.

And Justice knew exactly what to do to help him get there.

To hell with the potential fallout. If there was one, he'd deal with it later.

Without a word of warning, Justice flipped Axl onto his back. While Axl sputtered in confusion, Justice used the moment of disorientation to rip Axl's boxers down his legs and off. He tossed them to the floor.

Then spread Axl's thighs and knelt on the bed between them.

"J? What are you—"

But Justice had already consumed the tip of Axl's semi-erect cock between his lips. He ran his tongue in circles around the spongy head, feeling the organ come to life in his mouth.

Axl's smell was musky, his taste salty. He wasn't exactly fresh, but neither was he repulsive.

He unbelievably turned Justice the fuck on.

"God, J...mmm...what are you, fuck, what are you doing?"

Justice freed Axl's cock to answer ruefully, "I know I've never done this before, but you can't tell me I'm that bad. What does it feel like I'm doing?"

"But why? You don't have to."

No, Justice didn't have to. But he wanted to.

And that made all the difference.

"I know."

"B-b-but what about what you said that day?"

"I was wrong, Axl. A goddamn fool who's lucky to still have you."

Suckling gently on the now fully erect column, Justice engulfed the flesh as far he could, which, due to his inexperience, wasn't all that far. Not even halfway. There weren't very many things Justice could claim to be virginal about, shit, he'd lost his own virginity at eleven with a curious foster sister, but this was one area in which he had no experience at all.

Yeah, he'd received before. From his ex-wife on the sparse occasion the ice queen had decided to treat him, usually when she wanted him to buy her something absurdly expensive. From the occasional conquests he'd cheated on his personal piece of the South Pole with. From past girlfriends.

But he'd never before given. Not to another male, leastwise. But giving to Axl was definitely turning out to be a treat. A true learning experience Justice thoroughly enjoyed.

Justice sucked the shaft softly. He used his tongue to lave the prominent veins in his quest to become intimately acquainted with Axl's cock, causing Axl to push up into his mouth seeking more of the contact. In response, Justice immediately increased his suction, causing Axl to groan gutturally. The rumbles traveled straight down Justice's spine on an unerring path to tease his own throbbing erection.

As he started to become more comfortable in his newfound knowledge, with the strange sensation of having another man's sex in his mouth, Justice relaxed. Which allowed Axl to slide in another couple inches. He was now dangerously close to the back of Justice's mouth and Justice knew if Axl inadvertently lunged his hips upwards too hard at that moment the experience would be over for them both. But not because Axl had reached the release he so greatly needed.

Justice backed off a little, kissing lightly along the length as he went. Once a safe distance up, he started to bob his head up and down.

"Oh, fuck," Axl moaned.

Grabbing the base of Axl's cock with one hand, Justice jerked him in harmony to the love he made to him with his mouth. Soon Axl was writhing uncontrollably, thrusting urgently.

"Shit, J. Just...fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck." He was firmly on the way to an orgasm.

But Justice could tell he was fighting it, probably remembering the only other disastrous time they'd been together.

Encouragingly, Justice rubbed Axl's thigh with his unoccupied hand, letting him know it was okay to give in. A low expletive and a small gush of hot, salty pre-ejaculate was Justice's only warning that Axl had taken his advice. The cock in his mouth hardened, then filled Justice with spurt after spurt of Axl's essence.

Justice swallowed it all, savoring a consistency previously unknown to him and a flavor he realized he could learn to enjoy. He nursed on the spent flesh until it was soft with nothing left to give but the occasional residual twitch.

Then smiled when he heard Axl's deep, even breaths.

The boy was in a dead sleep.

*

May 9, 2009

Using his key, Axl unlocked the front door of the palatial mansion. He slipped inside and closed the door quietly with a firm click, then called out, "Justice?"

When no answer came, Axl approached the winding staircase. Ascending the treads two at a time, he stopped at the top. "Justice?"

But still there was no answer.

Wary, afraid of what he might find, Axl padded to the ajar bedroom door just to the left of the staircase's landing. He pushed the entrance all the way open, took a deep breath and entered. "Justice?"

The big man was there, sitting on the floor, back flat against a painted blue wall. He was gloriously highlighted in the early morning sunshine pouring through the open blinds. One leg was stretched out straight in front of him, the other cocked at the knee. His hands were crossed loosely at the wrists, lying atop his bent leg.

He stared at the crib situated on the opposite wall. It was empty except for a single pastel blue teddy bear.

"Justice?"

Hazel orbs swung towards Axl. A weak smile of welcome played along Justice's lips. "You came home."

The level of pain reflected in Justice's eyes floored Axl, then tore him in two. He rushed over and sank down next to his friend. "Of course I did. I...I'm sorry, Justice." A sob tore free of Axl's throat as he said, "I'm so goddamn sorry, J."

Justice slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. "Nothing to be sorry about. Not your fault."

"Where's Lisa?" Axl asked, automatically tensing. He tried unsuccessfully to force himself to relax. Because no matter what she demanded, he wasn't leaving again. Justice needed him.

And he needed Justice.

"Gone."

With that answer, Axl allowed himself to fully settle into the comfort Justice provided to him and hoped his own presence offered some measure of ease. He was gratified the inevitable confrontation with Justice's shrew of a wife wouldn't take place right away. "Why isn't she here with you?"

"Because she blames me." A harsh bark of laughter escaped Justice's throat. "And she's right. It is my fault. All my fucking fault."

She blamed him? The shock of the statement caused Axl to sit upright. Just based on his own many unpleasant experiences with her, he'd always known Lisa was a cold, calculating bitch, but this? This was just ridiculous!

How could she blame Justice for something out of his control?

And why the hell was Justice sitting there saying he agreed with her?

Axl stared at Justice's disfigured profile. He watched the tortured emotions at war with each other on the planes of his harsh face. "How can she blame this on you? How can you blame yourself?"

"She can blame it on me," Justice expounded, voice full of aching agony, "because she knew she was a carrier. I can agree because I didn't know I was one, too. Not until it was too late."

Bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. Lisa only knew beforehand she carried the mutated gene because she had access to something Justice hadn't...a well-documented report of her family's medical history.

It wasn't Justice's fault that the people who gave him life sucked royally at parenting.

"She can believe that all she wants. You can believe it all you want, too." Axl placed a hand flat against Justice's cheek and urged Justice's face towards his. He stared into his eyes. "But I know the truth, J. And I'm apparently the only one who's not misguided at the moment. So when you're ready to hear it, just ask. I'll tell you."

Tears filled Justice's beautiful golden eyes and Axl's heart constricted painfully in his chest. It was so damn hard to see the man who was always so strong brought so low.

But the death of a child could crack even the hardest of stone hearts.

Gage was gone. After a long, debilitating, exhausting illness, Gage had finally passed away the day before at the age of two. A little angel returned home to the heavens.

For the first six months of his life, he'd been a happy, healthy, normal baby. Then it had all gone to shit. It started with his irritability. No matter what, there had been no soothing the boy. That had been quickly followed by his refusal to eat. And the vomiting of what little nourishment he did consume. But it was when he had that very first seizure they'd all begun to realize something was horribly wrong with Gage.

Scared shitless, they'd rushed him to the emergency room. And after weeks filled with poking, prodding and numerous tests, Gage had finally been diagnosed. At seven months of age, it was determined Gage Jameson had a degenerative disorder which had no cure.

He'd been given, at the most, thirteen months left to live.

Axl had stayed at home for as long as he could. He wanted to be there for Justice. For Gage. But the past few months had been the worst. And it had become too much for him to handle.

Ironic enough, it wasn't Gage's constant crying or the scarily fast pace he deteriorated right before Axl's eyes which pushed Axl away.

That he could handle. Just on the basis that Gage might bless him with a smile. On the rare occasions the curly haired cherub did grin, it made Axl feel like he could take on everyone in the world for him.

Everyone...except Lisa.

Axl saw it all in the way she looked at him. The confused furrowing of her brow, the clear question in her eyes.

Why had the Lord seen fit to let a piece of scum like Axl live but take away her darling, innocent boy?

Then came the day she'd cornered him.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" she'd asked, leaning nonchalantly against the kitchen island on which Axl made a ham sandwich.

Axl had offered neither confirmation nor denial. He'd just put the finishing touches on his sandwich, refusing to look at her.

"I've known since the first day he introduced me to you, I think. The adoring reverence in your eyes. Hero worship, I at first thought. But then it became clear to me. Took a while, but I eventually recognized that this was no child's worshipping of his idol I was being subjected to, it was a faggot's infatuation with his crush."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Axl took a bite of his lunch, chewing slowly. The bread had been sawdust in his mouth.

"Yes, you do, Axl. And I'm done with it!" She slammed her hands flat on the granite countertop. "Right now we're having a family crisis. And you, no matter what Justice says, are not family. You're a burden. A burden I can't deal with right now. Not on top of...not on top of watching my son die," she said brokenly. "I cannot bear having to witness one second more of your sick, twisted fixation with my husband. Your so called brother! I want you out of my house!"

So Axl had finished his sandwich. Then left. To give Justice and Lisa time to work through their emotions without the added strain to Lisa's perilous mental state of his presence. And, for the first time since he'd been released from rehab, Axl had gotten high. To help manage his own emotional turmoil.

He'd smoked weed. He'd snorted coke. He'd even tried heroin for the first time. But he was very careful not to use anything often enough, or in high enough quantities, to become addicted again.

At one point, when weeks had passed and he hadn't heard from Justice, was halfway convinced that Lisa had revealed his secret to Justice and that maybe her words also reflected what Justice felt, Axl had toyed around with the idea of embarking on that journey into crack addiction. He'd wondered if heartbreak may have been what had paved the path of his mother's addiction to the insidious drug. If so, like mother, like son.

But King had found him before he'd sunk that low and taken the final plunge. King had found him and started giving him regular updates on Gage's condition and how Justice was faring.

All thoughts of self-destruction had instantly fled. Even if Axl couldn't be strong for himself, he knew he had to be strong for Justice. Because he knew one day soon Justice would need him.

And that day was today.

Justice's broad shoulders shook as giant sobs wracked his big body. Axl wrapped his arms around him and just held on until they subsided. He wished it was easy as that to stop all the sorrow in Justice's heart as well as his own, but he knew it wasn't.

It had only taken two years for Gage to wiggle his way into all of their hearts. It would take a lifetime for the pain of his passing to dull.

What they both needed right now was to focus on the happier moments with Gage. Eyeing the stereo he'd purchased specifically for Gage's room, an idea formed in Axl's head.

He use to play music for Gage. And while holding him close to his chest, he'd whirl them both around the room.

That had made Gage giggle in delight once upon a time. Before he'd stopped laughing altogether. Before the illness had truly taken a firm hold on him and dimmed the bright gleam in his dark eyes. But laugh he had.

And maybe, just maybe, Axl could make this a case of like son, like father. Maybe Axl could make Justice laugh, too. Or, at the very least, make him crack a smile.

Axl disentangled his limbs from Justice's, stood up, dug his iPod Touch out of his pocket and made his way to Gage's wooden dresser. He attached his iPod to the docking port of the stereo sitting cattycorner on the dresser's back edge then turned it on. Scrolling through the playlists, he located the one he'd named Smile and called up one of the last songs he remembered making Gage laugh.

All the while Justice continued to stare at the crib with reddened eyes. Until the strains of Cold by Crossfade filled the air. Then his gaze, heavy with emptiness, shifted to Axl.