Snyder J M V 1 The V In Valor

V: T

V I

ALOR

…Vic sat back in the chair as Matt’s hand danced across his

stomach and chest, tweaking one nipple when his finger caught on the
hoop pierced through it. Leaning against his lover, Vic wrapped an
arm around Matt’s denim-clad thigh and his hand angled between
Matt’s legs pressed up against the seat of his ass. As Matt bent down
to claim a kiss, Vic murmured, “You know it’s watching us.”

Matt snickered. “It’s a cat. What, do you think it’s going to tell

Mrs. K everything it sees once she gets back?”

Vic didn’t answer and Matt leaned into their kiss, pinning Vic back

to the chair. His hand dipped down over the slight paunch at Vic’s
abdomen and below his smooth pubic mound to grasp at the semi-
erect length between his legs. Vic’s meaty cock jumped into Matt’s
hand, and his lover moaned into their kiss as Matt massaged his firm
length. ::Here’s fine,:: Vic admitted, sinking down in his seat and
spreading his legs to allow Matt access to his most intimate spot.

But when Matt cupped his balls, Vic froze. Matt’s mouth brushed

against the side of his lover’s face as Vic turned away. “What?”

A furrow creased Vic’s brow. “Mrs. K.”
With a bark of laughter, Matt stood and leaned back against the

kitchen table, his hand still lost in the folds of Vic’s robe. “Way to
spoil the mood, Romeo. She’s not exactly on my mind when we’re
getting it on. Is this about the cat? Because we can still go to the
bedroom if you want.”

Vic shook his head. Extracting Matt’s hand from between his legs,

he raised it to his lips and kissed his lover’s knuckles. “No, I mean
she’s headed back. I just picked up on her thoughts as she turned onto
the street.”

Matt sighed. “Which means now I have to wait…”

LSO

J. M. S

NYDER

All Shook Up

Beautiful

Beautiful Disaster

Beautiful Liar

Beneath A Yankee Sky

Between States

The Bonds Of Love

Bounty Of The Heart

Carey’d Away

Crushed

An Evening With The Rush Hour Hero

A Heart Divided

Matching Tats

A More Perfect Union

On Company Time

Outage

Persistence of Memory

Playing The Field: Faceoff

Playing The Field: Play On

Playing The Field: Tee’d Off

The Positions Of Love Series: Books I - XII

The Powers Of Love

The Powers Of Love, Book I: Origins

The Powers Of Love, Book II: Everyday Hero

The Regent’s Knight

Seventh Inning Stretch

Under A Confederate Moon

Wanted

With This Ring

V: THE V IN VALOR

J. M. SNYDER

MBER

UILL

RESS

, LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

V: T

V I

ALOR

MBER

UILL

RESS

OOK

This book is a work of fiction.

All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the

author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales,

or events is entirely coincidental.

Amber Quill Press, LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

No portion of this book may be transmitted or

reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in

writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief

excerpts used for the purposes of review.

ISBN 978-1-60272-543-0

Layout and Formatting provided by: Elemental Alchemy

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

For all those who love these guys as much as I do.

V: THE V IN VALOR

THE V IN VALOR

Vic Braunson opened one eye, his mind still muddled with

sleep. The clock on his bedside table read a little after ten, and it
took him a minute to figure out why the alarm hadn’t gone off. It
was Saturday—no need to get up early because he didn’t have to
go to work.

Then why bother to wake up at all?
Gripping his pillow in a bear hug, he burrowed down into it

and sighed as he shut his eyes again. More sleep sounded
heavenly. As his whole body relaxed, his mind stretched out
beyond the confines of the bedroom to fill the rest of his
apartment, searching to connect with his lover, Matt diLorenzo.

But the apartment was empty.
Vic drifted farther, his mind reaching past the solid confines of

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the home. Into the hallway, down the stairs, outside where Matt
stood on the front stoop, morning newspaper in hand, chatting with
a little girl whose overly eager Siberian husky craned its neck up
toward Matt to be petted. When Vic’s consciousness brushed over
his, Matt sent a loving thought Vic’s way. ::Morning, sexy.::

With a slight groan, Vic answered, ::I ain’t up yet.::
Though the smile on Matt’s face never changed, Vic sensed his

lover leer at him suggestively. ::I can fix that. Give me five more
minutes here and I’ll come get you up.::

With a contented sigh, Vic reeled in his thoughts and sank

deeper into his pillow. The telepathy he shared with his lover
stemmed from their lovemaking—something in Matt’s semen gave
Vic a plethora of superpowers, including superhuman strength and
the ability to read minds. Different powers came and went,
depending upon a variety of factors when they made love, but the
telepathy was a constant. One Vic wouldn’t give up for the world,
if he were honest. It deepened the relationship with his lover, and
he never wanted to lose that intimacy.

In his opinion, Saturdays were for sleeping in, but if Matt had

other plans, then Vic wasn’t about to change them. He could think
of no other way to be pleasantly awoken than by his lover’s soft
kisses and gentle touch. The anticipation alone stirred his groin,
and he had to shift into a more comfortable position on the bed,
raising one leg to alleviate the throb at his crotch.

A minute passed, two, and the ache drifted higher. It grew more

insistent, no matter how Vic turned in the sheets. Then he realized
it wasn’t his libido at all but the urge to urinate that had him
restless in the bed. Throwing off all pretense of sleep, he stretched
as he stood, nude, and left the sheets behind him to head for the
bathroom.

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The cool morning air prickled his skin into goose bumps. For a

long moment after the flush of the toilet had faded away, Vic stood
at the bathroom sink, studying himself in the mirror. He was one
ugly motherfucker, what with the facial tattoo that curved around
his temple and the piercings in his eyebrows. Scrunching up his
nose, he growled at himself and, not for the first time, wondered
what Matt saw when he looked at him. The bared teeth, the
devilish goatee, the mean eyes? Why his man had ever spared a
glance Vic’s way, he’d never know. But God, not a day went by
when Vic didn’t thank heaven Matt had looked at him, not once
but twice, and that double take had snagged Vic’s notice, as well.

Running water into the sink, Vic splashed the cool liquid on his

face and neck. Then he stretched out for a towel on the rack behind
him. He couldn’t quite reach, but before he could take a step back,
he felt a surge of energy spiral down his arm and into his hand,
then the soft terry cloth brushed his fingertips.

In the mirror, Vic watched as the towel flew into his hand on its

own accord. Another day, another odd superpower to deal with.
What was this one? Telekinesis, maybe? Moving things with
thought alone…

As he toweled off, he tried again, staring at his razor on the

edge of the sink. It didn’t move an inch, but the moment he opened
his hand above it, he was able to make it dance. So the power was
somehow channeled through him, he suspected. Good thing it was
Saturday. Vic could sit around the apartment with his hands balled
into fists until the power passed.

Down the hall, Vic heard the front door open and knew Matt

had returned. ::I said I’d get you up,:: he teased when he sensed
Vic no longer waited for him in bed.

::I plan to hold you to that,:: Vic replied. ::I may be out of bed

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but that doesn’t mean I’m anywhere near awake.::

Through the bathroom door, he heard his lover’s surprised

laugh and he grinned into the towel. He was a bear in the
mornings, he knew, and damn it, but Matt loved to mess with him
when he wasn’t quite coherent. He should go into the kitchen and
show off his new power in a dramatic way, just to get Matt worked
up. Pour his coffee without touching the mug, perhaps, or mentally
turn the pages of the newspaper as Matt tried to read it. If he closed
off his thoughts and snuck up on his lover, he might get a good
laugh or two before Matt figured out what was happening.

The smile was back, and on his reflection, it looked scheming.

Vic dropped the towel, but instead of falling at his feet, it flew
back to its place on the rack and settled itself neatly across the bar.
Then he raised a hand and his bathrobe jumped off its hook as if
waiting to cover him. Vic shrugged into it, not bothering to close
the front panels or tie the robe around his waist. This was proving
to be a pretty convenient power to have.

Leaving the robe open, Vic left the bathroom. He could hear

Matt talking softly in the kitchen…to himself? That was odd, but
he didn’t want to open the mental channel between them because
that would blow any chance he had to fool Matt with his latest
ability. Then his foot found the one floorboard in the middle of the
hallway that creaked whenever something passed over it.

So much for sneaking up on his lover.
As Vic headed for the kitchen, Matt called out, “Morning,

babe. We have company.”

Adrenaline shot through Vic’s veins, jumpstarting his heart and

setting his hands into motion. Quickly he tugged the front of his
bathrobe shut. The ties jumped into his hands to be cinched tight
around his waist. Jesus, he thought, covering up. All he could

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imagine was that little girl Matt had been talking to earlier on the
stoop, sitting innocently at their dining room table and getting
more than a glass of milk when Vic came into view.

As it was, the thought of company did little to dampen Vic’s

ardor, and he had to push down the front of his robe, which
threatened to tent over the budding erection he’d sported since
waking. As he stepped into the kitchen, he groused, “You could
warn a guy, Matty.”

No one waited for him in the kitchen, and the dining room table

was empty. “Matty?”

The kitchen was a walk-through, the hallway at one end and the

dining area at the other. The living room was adjacent to the dining
area, and it was from there that Matt appeared. In his arms, he held
a very large, very orange cat. “Look who’s up,” he said, his voice
pitched higher than normal. Taking one of the cat’s paws, he
waved it at Vic. “Hi, Mr. Vic. My name’s Tibbles.”

Vic narrowed his eyes, unamused. “Where did you get that?”
“Followed me home.” Matt set the cat down on the dining

room table as he passed, then ran a hand along its back from neck
to tail. Even from this distance, Vic could hear its ragged purr. “I
think it’s one of Mrs. K’s. Maybe it got out when she left to get her
groceries. What do you think?”

“Why is it on the table?” Vic asked, though he knew the

answer already—Matt had put it there. Still, he didn’t know what
else to think. He wasn’t an animal person, really. He didn’t love
them, didn’t hate them. They just sort of existed in the same world
as he, and as long as they minded their own business and left him
alone, he’d do the same. Hell, Vic could say that about most of the
people in the world, as well. All the people in the world, if he were
being honest.

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Save one.
Matt sidled up to him, arms easing around Vic’s barrel waist as

he pressed himself against his lover and puckered his lips to claim
a kiss. “If it got out of the building, you know Mrs. K would have a
fit, and her local superhero would have to spend his whole
Saturday tracking down one lousy cat. Since it followed me in, I
thought why not let it stay here until she gets back? You help her
with the groceries, give her back the cat, and save the day. Even
Superman doesn’t have it so good.”

“Superman doesn’t have this.” Vic wrapped his arms around

Matt and gripped his lover’s buttocks in both hands as he pulled
him closer for another kiss.

Matt laughed. “I don’t know. I often wondered about that Olsen

kid. I mean, sure, Lois is hot, but who says Clark Kent didn’t want
a little dick on the side?”

To Vic’s still-waking mind, Matt made no sense. “What?”
Another laugh, and Matt kissed the tip of Vic’s nose once

before his lips found Vic’s again. “Jimmy Olsen? From the
paper?”

Vic wasn’t following. “What paper?”
“Never mind.” Extracting himself from Vic’s embrace, Matt

nudged his lover aside with his hip and opened the refrigerator.
“Cats like milk, right?”

“Don’t feed it,” Vic muttered.
Too late—Matt backed out of the fridge with the carton of milk

in one hand and a small leftover container in the other. Inside the
container was a small section of smoked salmon, all that remained
of their dinner the night before. “Good thing I saved this,” Matt
said as he deposited the container on the stove. When he turned to
retrieve a dish from the dishwasher, though, he found Vic still

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standing in the middle of the kitchen as if lost. “Hon, you’re in the
way.”

The glare Vic leveled at him only made Matt laugh. It earned

Vic a smack on the ass and a kiss on the cheek, as well. “Go sit
down,” Matt murmured. “I brought in your paper. Let me get your
coffee and what, some eggs? How’s that sound?”

With a confused shrug, Vic let himself be steered from the

kitchen. Mornings weren’t exactly his best time of the day, and
Matt seemed to relish making them more hectic than they had to
be. A cup of coffee and a piece of buttered toast, and the paper
stretched out in front of him across the dining room table. Vic
didn’t ask for much.

But as he sank into one of the chairs at the table, the cat

stopped grooming itself and slinked over to join him. As it butted
its head against his forearm, Vic elbowed it aside—gently, though.
He didn’t wish the cat any harm. He’d just like it to get the hell off
the table.

When the cat approached him a second time, Vic picked it up

gingerly and set it on the floor. It meowed once, a pitiful sound,
and watched him as he settled into his seat. The moment he was
comfortable, with the paper open before him, the cat nimbly
jumped back onto the table. “God damn it,” Vic muttered under his
breath.

From the kitchen, Matt snickered. “There’s no arguing with a

cat,” he told Vic as he came into the dining area. He held a full
mug of coffee in one hand and a saucer of milk in the other. “You
might as well just get used to it now. It’ll get what it wants in the
end.”

Sipping his hot java, Vic murmured, “Now who’s that remind

me of?”

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“Hey!” Matt wrapped his arm around Vic’s head and pulled

him close. Vic let him, leaning against Matt’s abdomen as he set
his coffee aside. A warm hand rubbed over the top of Vic’s bald
scalp, the touch followed by the damp imprint of a kiss. “You love
me, admit it.”

“I do.” Vic turned his face to kiss Matt’s stomach through his

shirt. “But I already have one spoiled pet. I don’t need two. Does it
have to eat on the table?”

He meant the cat, who had found the saucer of milk and now

sat hunched over it, lapping at the cool liquid. Tiny little drops
appeared around the bowl, reminding Vic of splattered cum.

But Matt released Vic and dropped into the chair by the cat’s

bowl. “There’s plenty of room. Where else would it eat? On the
floor?”

::You think?:: Vic raised one eyebrow and left the question

unspoken between them.

Matt ignored it, as Vic had thought he would. Standing, Matt

pushed his chair away from the table and announced, “Fish for
you, kitty. And how about my man this morning? What can I cook
you for breakfast?”

Into his mug, Vic muttered, “Well, I had wanted salmon and

eggs.”

The look of surprise on Matt’s face was priceless, and Vic had

to scowl at his coffee to avoid smirking. “Really?” Matt asked, his
voice unusually high. “Because I was going to give the cat…”

“It’s cool.” Vic shrugged and waved off Matt’s words. “Let the

cat have it, I don’t care.”

Contrite, Matt took Vic’s hand in his and gave it a loving

squeeze. “But Vic, if you want it—”

With a shake of his head, Vic admitted, “I don’t.”

V: THE V IN VALOR

“I can maybe cut off just a little piece,” Matt tried.
Vic couldn’t suppress his smile any longer, and his fingers

curled around Matt’s possessively. “I’m kidding, Matty. I don’t
want the fish. I’m just playing with you.”

Thin color rose in Matt’s cheeks. “Vic!” he cried with a laugh.

“Don’t do that to me! It’s too early…”

Vic winked. “But you can fuck with me first thing and get

away with it, eh?”

“Oh, I’ll fuck you,” Matt promised. “After breakfast, it’s back

to bed for both of us, you hear?”

Vic couldn’t wait.

* * *

Matt served the salmon on a small dish, setting it before the cat

as if the feline were just another person sitting around the table.
He’d warmed it, to boot—from where Vic sat he could faintly
smell it, and though it turned his stomach at such an early hour, he
held his tongue. What was the use of arguing? Matt always got his
way in the end. As his lover set a plate heaped high with scrambled
eggs in front of him, Vic let himself be kissed on top of the head.
Diving into the eggs, he groused, “I bet Mrs. K doesn’t even let it
eat on the table. And you know that’s one of our plates. We eat off
that.”

“All cat germs will come off in the dishwasher,” Matt told him.
He chose the seat beside Vic, as the cat ate at the end of the

table where he usually sat. Already that part of the table was
covered with little flecks of pinked fish, chewed morsels that fell
from the cat’s mouth as it devoured the food. The poor creature ate
as if it hadn’t had food in years, but Vic suspected it had eaten

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quite a bland meal of cat food earlier and was now gorging on
Matt’s treat.

When the cat grabbed a mouthful of salmon and tugged it off

the plate onto the table, Vic groaned. “This is why we don’t have a
pet.”

Beside him, Matt scooted his chair closer to Vic’s and placed a

hand high up on his lover’s thigh. The fingers curved over the
flannel bathrobe to tuck themselves between Vic’s legs. “Why? I’d
spoil it?”

“Just a little.” Vic saw the cat throw an interested glance at his

plate and curved his arm around it protectively, hunching over as
he ate his eggs. “The minute Mrs. K is back, I’m taking that damn
thing upstairs.”

The hand in his lap gave him a gentle pat. When Vic looked at

Matt, a thoughtful expression had fallen over his lover’s face,
glazing his eyes and forcing him to chew slowly. Even without the
telepathic ability they shared, Vic knew what was going on behind
that vacant stare. “No.”

With a shake, Matt tore his gaze from the cat to frown at Vic.

“No, what?”

“No,” Vic said again. “No pets.”
A slight pout made Matt’s chin tremble. “But what about—”
“No.” Vic shook his head, adamant. “Be reasonable, Matty.

Both of us work full-time, and it wouldn’t be fair to any animal to
be left locked up in this small apartment all day long. We’d have to
feed it, take it to the vet’s, take it on walks—”

“Cats don’t go on walks.” A sparkle lit up Matt’s bright green

eyes, twinkling them. “But a dog…now that might be fun.”

But Vic just turned back to his plate, unmoved. “No. We don’t

have a yard for it to run around in, and neither of us really have the

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time. A pet is a lot of responsibility and you know it. They’re like
kids, almost. Kids with fur.”

Matt leaned closer to rest his chin on Vic’s shoulder. Pursing

his lips, he blew gently into his lover’s ear, a gesture that did
wicked things to Vic below the cinched belt of his robe. When his
dick jumped in interest, it brushed against Matt’s fingertips,
causing his lover to push it down playfully. “You like kids,” he
purred.

“No, I don’t,” Vic corrected.
“They like you.” Matt lay his head on Vic’s shoulder and

snuggled up to him as he watched Mrs. K’s cat. The salmon had
disappeared—all that remained was a circle of half-chewed,
discarded pieces that ringed the plate. Bits stuck in the fur on the
cat’s chin and chest. Licking its lips, the cat abandoned its empty
plate and turned its attention to Vic’s instead. Without hesitation it
approached Vic’s arm, then butted its head against his wrist in a
show of affection that ended with it stretched out beside him,
covering half the newspaper Vic had been trying to read. The glare
Vic threw its way went ignored as the cat began to groom itself,
noisily licking one paw several times before brushing it back over
one ear, then repeating the process.

With a snicker, Matt added, “Animals like you, too. Must be

your charming personality.”

Vic gave him a deadly scowl that Matt just laughed away. “It’s

just something to think about,” he said, kissing Vic’s cheek. “I’m
not saying let’s run out and buy something today. I’m saying let’s
not write it off just yet, that’s all. Don’t say no until we talk it
through and decide on it together.”

“My noes always turn to yeses around you,” Vic grumbled.
That earned him a heady kiss, this one on the lips, with a hint

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of tongue that promised so much more.

* * *

After breakfast, Matt cleared away the plates while Vic fought

a silent battle of wills with the cat, who stretched out across the
open newspaper, making it impossible to turn the page. Vic tried
anyway, covering the cat with the sheet of newsprint, but he hadn’t
begun to read the story on the other side when the cat began
chewing at the paper. “Get off my table,” Vic admonished,
slapping the table near the cat’s tail.

The cat stared at him, unperturbed, then resumed washing

itself.

Matt laughed as he sidled up to Vic’s chair. “Is the big, bad

kitty cat bothering you?” he teased, easing an arm around Vic’s
shoulders in a half-hug.

“The big, bad kitty cat’s going to find his furry ass dumped on

the floor in a minute,” Vic growled.

The cat ignored his threat and sat up a little to begin licking its

belly. One graceful hind leg rose in the air, and the faint slurping
sounds the cat made as it cleaned itself sounded gross. But when
Vic made a move to pick up the cat, its muffled purr turned to a
low growl that ended in a hiss seconds before Vic pulled his hands
back.

With a look of resignation at his lover, Vic asked Matt, “See

what you started?”

“Leave it alone,” Matt said, tugging on Vic’s robe. “We were

heading back to bed, weren’t we? Unless you have something else
in mind. The shower, perhaps? Or hey, how about here?”

His hand rubbed down the front of Vic’s chest to fist around

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the knotted tie that held his robe together. Deft fingers worked the
fabric free, then delved beneath the flannel panels to tickle over
Vic’s muscled belly. Vic sat back in the chair as Matt’s hand
danced across his stomach and chest, tweaking one nipple when
his finger caught on the hoop pierced through it. Leaning against
his lover, Vic wrapped an arm around Matt’s denim-clad thigh and
his hand angled between Matt’s legs to press up against the seat of
his ass. As Matt bent down to claim a kiss, Vic murmured, “You
know it’s watching us.”

Matt snickered. “It’s a cat. What, do you think it’s going to tell

Mrs. K everything it sees once she gets back?”

Vic didn’t answer and Matt leaned into their kiss, pinning Vic

back to the chair. His hand dipped down over the slight paunch at
Vic’s abdomen and below his smooth pubic mound to grasp at the
semi-erect length between his legs. Vic’s meaty cock jumped into
Matt’s hand, and his lover moaned into their kiss as Matt massaged
his firm length. ::Here’s fine,:: Vic admitted, sinking down in his
seat and spreading his legs to allow Matt access to his most
intimate spot.

But when Matt cupped his balls, Vic froze. Matt’s mouth

brushed against the side of his lover’s face as Vic turned away.
“What?”

A furrow creased Vic’s brow. “Mrs. K.”
With a bark of laughter, Matt stood and leaned back against the

Vic shook his head. Extracting Matt’s hand from between his

legs, he raised it to his lips and kissed his lover’s knuckles. “No, I

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mean she’s headed back. I just picked up on her thoughts as she
turned onto the street.”

Matt sighed. “Which means now I have to wait.”
Every Saturday, their landlady went grocery shopping. Before

Matt had come into Vic’s life, Mrs. K used to leave the groceries
in her car and stop at Vic’s door to ask if he’d help her. Now with
Vic’s telepathic ability, he anticipated her arrival and met her at the
curb to help carry her groceries up the stairs to her third floor
apartment. His super strength made it easy—no matter how many
groceries she had, he always carried them up in one trip. No matter
how tired he might be, or how grumpy he was after waking, Vic
never complained.

And Matt loved him for it.
“Five minutes,” Vic promised. “You can deliver her cat while I

carry the bags, and we’ll pick up where we left off once she’s in.”

With a stretch Vic stood, and Matt stole one last, lingering kiss

as he recinched the belt on his lover’s robe. Holding onto the loose
end of the ties, he let Vic lead the way into the kitchen. At the sink,
Matt stopped and tugged on the belt, bringing Vic back to him for
another kiss. “Make it quick,” he murmured against Vic’s lips. “I
hate waiting.”

While Vic dressed, Matt rinsed the breakfast dishes and

deposited them into the dishwasher. He was bent over, tucking the
dishes into the lower rack, when Vic came back, dressed in jeans
and a crisp white undershirt. With the flat of his hand, he smacked
Matt’s ass playfully. “Don’t forget to bring the cat,” he said,
heading for the front door.

“I didn’t think you’d let me.” Matt wiped his hands on a

dishtowel, then scooped the cat off the dining room table.

It began to purr the moment he touched it, and in his arms, it

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rubbed its head underneath his chin as if it’d known him for years.
“Good kitty,” he murmured, scratching it behind the ears. His
voice took on a childish quality, as if he were talking to a baby. “I
don’t know why Vic won’t like you. You’re so soft, so pretty.
Such a good kitty, aren’t you? Aren’t you?”

In his mind, his lover’s gruff voice spoke up through the

telepathic bond they shared. ::If this is the way you talk to all
animals,:: Vic threatened, ::we’re never getting a pet.::

Ignoring him, Matt made kissy noises as he cuddled the cat.

“Don’t listen to him, Tibbles. He’s just jealous I’m loving on you
right now and not on him.”

Matt laughed at the groan his lover directed his way. ::You’ll

be petted and cuddled soon enough,:: he promised. ::You’re not
the only one with a spoiled pet.::

::I didn’t mean it like that,:: Vic answered. He stood outside on

the curb; leaving the door to their apartment open, Matt wandered
out to the landing and could just see the gleam of sunlight off the
top of Vic’s bald head through the window above the outside door.
::I meant—::

But whatever he planned to say disappeared as a late model

white Cadillac slid to a stop in front of their building. With the cat
in his arms, Matt waited at the top of the stairs as Vic helped Mrs.
K with her groceries. Well, “help” was exactly the word for it—the
landlady was in her seventies, and probably couldn’t lift the first
bag. So all she did was open the trunk; Vic carried everything
himself. She stood on the stoop and waited for him, then held the
door open as he stepped inside their building.

Before Vic could start up the stairs, however, Mrs. K slipped in

front of him to lead the way. She took the steps one at a time,
leaning heavily on the railing as she hoisted herself up. Only once

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both feet were on the step would she advance to the next. And the
next. And the next. Vic glowered up at Matt as he trailed slowly
behind her, frustration darkening his eyes. Matt buried his face
against the cat’s neck so their landlady wouldn’t see his smirk.

Step by shuffling step, Mrs. K neared the landing where Matt

stood, but she didn’t look up to see him until she reached the top
step. “Marvin!” she said, smiling not at him but at the cat he held.
“I see you found Tibbles.”

“It’s Matt,” he answered gently. She always got his name

wrong. Did he look like a Marvin to her?

With a frown, Mrs. K pushed her thick glasses up on her thin

nose and peered at the cat. “No, that’s Tibbles,” she announced.
“I’m sure of it.”

Behind her, Vic coughed to cover his laugh.
Narrowing his eyes at his lover, Matt threatened, “Do you want

to carry the cat?”

Vic shrugged, rustling the paper grocery bags he held in both

hands. “My hands are full.”

Nodding at the cat, Mrs. K asked, “Be a dear and bring him up

for me, will you?”

Without waiting for an answer, she started for the next flight of

stairs. This time Vic managed to get in front of her and, with his
long strides, reached the door to her apartment well before she
even started up the steps. But Matt wasn’t so lucky—he had to trail
behind, the cat growing restless in his arms, as she slowly
ascended. More than once he let out an annoyed sigh, but it didn’t
seem to make Mrs. K move any faster. At the top of the stairs, Vic
had deposited the groceries in front of the door and now leaned
over the railing, smirking, as Matt glared at him. ::Hurry up,
slowpoke,:: Vic teased.

V: THE V IN VALOR

There was no way to edge around the landlady without

knocking her down. ::Next time carry her up with the groceries,::
Matt told his lover. ::This can take all day.::

Vic’s eyes twinkled with suppressed laughter. ::You can’t rush

an old lady.::

Finally Matt reached the landing. As Mrs. K shuffled to her

door, jingling her keys to find the right one, Matt stepped up to Vic
and foisted the cat off onto his lover. Vic tried to back away and
couldn’t—the railing creaked beneath his weight. The cat clawed
at the front of his shirt as he grappled with it. “Matty, what…”

“Your turn.” Matt waited until Mrs. K ducked into her

apartment before he planted a quick kiss on Vic’s cheek. “Ask her
if we can have pets.”

“What?” Vic juggled the cat in his arms, trying unsuccessfully

to hold onto it. After a few wiggly moments, it leapt out of Vic’s
embrace and bolted for the open door. Brushing off the cat hair left
behind, Vic said, “I’m not asking her that. We don’t need a pet.”

For a long moment, Matt just stared at Vic, the look on his face

neutral. He didn’t have to pout or beg to get his way—after a
minute or two, Vic sighed and ran a hand over his scalp, as if
smoothing back hair he no longer had. “No.”

Matt didn’t answer.
Turning his attention to the groceries, Vic gathered the bags in

his arms and followed Mrs. K into her apartment. As he passed
through the doorway, he stuck out one foot to keep another
adventurous feline from slipping out into the hall. Inside, he set the
bags down and reached behind him to close the door, and his gaze
found Matt’s once again.

A low growl tickled the back of Vic’s throat. “Spoiled,” he

said, his voice gruff. He closed the door, shutting Matt out in the

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hall, but through the thin wood, Matt heard his lover call out, “Mrs.
K? We had a question about our lease.”

Slowly, Matt grinned.

* * *

Matt didn’t bring up the question of a pet again. He didn’t have

to—he had Vic thinking about it, and he knew Vic would give him
what he wanted in the end. And to be honest, Matt wasn’t exactly
sure what he wanted was a pet. His lover’s immediate refusal upon
seeing Mrs. K’s cat sprawled out on their kitchen table had been
the only reason Matt pressed his point in the first place. If they got
a pet, he wanted it to be a mutual decision, not a knee-jerk
reaction. So Vic didn’t like cats; so what? There were other
animals they could keep if they chose.

By Monday morning, getting a pet was the last thing on Matt’s

mind when he woke. His arms were still tight around Vic’s waist,
his nude body pressed against his lover’s, in a pale imitation of the
way they had held onto each other while making love the night
before. Then Vic had been on his stomach, his thick cock
throbbing between himself and the mattress, his pillow tucked
under his head and gripped in both arms. Matt had straddled him
from behind, and each hard thrust that drove his dick into Vic’s ass
was matched with a lusty moan deep in the back of Vic’s throat.
His lover bit at the pillow in his arms and raised his hips off the
bed to meet Matt as they fucked. Just before Matt had come, he’d
lain down above Vic, covering his lover’s body with his own, and
shoved in as far as he could go. His arms had eased beneath Vic’s
shoulders and their fingers laced together. At the last possible
moment, Vic had turned to kiss Matt, and Matt’s orgasm tore

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through them both, triggering Vic’s own.

In the early morning stillness, it took Matt a moment to extract

himself from Vic, both physically and mentally. As quietly as he
could, he showered and dressed, then ate a quick breakfast of
frozen waffles that he washed down with a cup of strong coffee.
Leaving the coffeemaker on to keep the rest of the java warm, Matt
ducked back into the bedroom for his gym bag. In the darkness,
Vic was nothing but an indistinct shape on the bed, his nakedness
buried under the blankets.

Matt stopped by his lover’s side and pulled the top cover back

just enough to expose Vic’s tattooed and pierced brow. Kissing his
forehead, Matt murmured, “Love you, big guy. Have a good day,
you hear?”

Vic groaned and rolled toward the sound of Matt’s voice.

Through the blanket, Matt felt hidden hands rub over his lower
back. Before they could catch hold of him, though, he stood and
laughed. ::Much as I’d love to,:: he told Vic silently, ::I’ll never
hear the end of it from Roxie if I’m late again. She says I’m lying
when I tell her it’s your fault. Says no one can have sex as much as
I claim we do.::

Despite all appearances, Vic’s mind was more alert than his

body at this hour. ::No wonder she’s always thinking of dick when
she sees me,:: he groused. ::Is that all you two talk about?::

::Your dick,:: Matt admitted. He reached out and tickled Vic

through the blanket, hoping his hand was in close proximity to his
lover’s genitalia. By the way Vic shifted and the sudden surge of
desire that colored his thoughts, Matt suspected his aim was true.
::It’s one of my favorite topics of conversation.::

::At work?:: Vic shifted again, trying to catch Matt’s hand

between his legs.

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Matt pulled it back in time. ::Anywhere. Love you.::
Another kiss, this one on the bridge of Vic’s nose, and a third

when his lover pulled the blanket down and puckered up. “Tastes
like syrup,” he muttered. “Now I want pancakes.”

“There are waffles in the fridge.” Matt smoothed a hand over

Vic’s brow, reluctant to leave. The rumpled sheets made the bed
look so inviting, and he knew just how warm and cozy it’d be to
strip down and tuck himself in next to his lover…

But he was running late for work. “See you tonight,” he called

out, pulling the bedroom door shut behind him to keep out the light
from the hall.

::Love you,:: came Vic’s mental reply. His thoughts were

tinged with exhaustion, and by the time Matt locked the front door
to their apartment behind him and headed down the stairs, Vic had
fallen back to sleep.

At the gym, Roxie was already behind the reception counter

when Matt entered. “What did you do, spend the night?” he joked
as he swiped his key card to enter the employee’s area.

The button that buzzed the door open was under Roxie’s desk;

she hit it as he swiped his card, effectively canceling his request
for entry. The door stayed shut when Matt hit it with his elbow.
“Roxie, come on. I’m just kidding.”

“You walked me to my car yesterday,” she muttered. “You

know I went home.”

Matt shrugged. “You could’ve snuck back in after I drove off, I

don’t know. Let me in.”

“Stop picking on me then.”
He waited until her attention was diverted to her computer and

tried his card a second time. No dice. She probably had a knee
pressed up against the button, keeping him out. “Roxie,” he

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whined.

She shook her head, her dyed red hair flipping from one

shoulder to the other. “That might work for your man of steel,” she
joked, “but your superhuman powers of persuasion are lost on me.
How is Vic doing, anyway?”

“I left him asleep in the bed,” Matt admitted. He jiggled the

door handle, as if that would help. “And if you don’t open up, I’ll
head back home and join him.”

Roxie laughed. “You guys rut like rabbits. How he manages to

sit in the driver’s seat all day after that, I can’t imagine.”

Before Matt could think of something pithy to say in response,

the door opened behind him and he stumbled back into the hallway
that led to the employee locker room and the pool where he
worked. As the door eased closed, he started down the hall, eager
to hide in the pool’s admin office and, with any luck, avoid Roxie
the rest of the day. But before the door shut completely, she called
out, “What, no thank you? See if you get a donut now.”

Matt turned in mid-step, heading instead for the short corridor

that led to the reception area. Pushing through the swinging door
that put him out behind Roxie’s desk, he tucked his key card in his
back pocket as he surveyed the cluttered spot around her computer.
Sure enough, a box of Krispy Kreme donuts sat unopened
underneath the counter, where it wouldn’t be seen by patrons and
any employees who might enter the gym through the front door.
“Thank you,” he said, nodding at Roxie in a mock bow. “I’m
forever in your debt. Tell me you have Boston cream.”

Sinking into her seat, Roxie opened the box, displaying an

assortment of a half dozen hot, fresh donuts. There were two
chocolate-covered ones in particular that caught Matt’s eye. “Just
for you,” she said as she held out the box. “I figure if Vic likes

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you, you can’t be all bad.”

“Ha ha.” Matt snatched both donuts before she could change

her mind and take them back. The first bite was heavenly—the
thick, sugary cream inside melted in his mouth. Much better than
the waffles had been, for sure. “You’re the greatest, Roxie.”

Loftily, she replied, “I know.”
As Matt finished off the first donut, Roxie turned back to her

computer to resume checking her e-mail. Matt glanced at the
screen and looked away quickly before she could accuse him of
reading over her shoulder. Then he noticed a chunky black picture
frame sitting by her keyboard. In the frame was a photo of a small
black and white kitten stretched out across a windowsill, soaking
up bright sunlight. Pointing at the frame, Matt asked, “What’s
this?”

Roxie didn’t look up from her computer, where she was now

scrolling through her own Facebook profile. “A picture.”

Sometimes Roxie could be particularly stubborn. He knew it

was a picture. “Of what?”

Now she gave him a sidelong look that made him feel stupid.

“A cat.”

“No, I mean…” He sighed and bit into the second donut.

“Never mind.”

Too late. Roxie closed her browser window and turned to pick

up the frame. “This is Miss Priss. Isn’t she cute? I got her a few
months’ back.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat. We had one this weekend.” At

the odd look Roxie gave him, Matt recounted what had happened,
going into great detail about Vic’s discomfort around the animal.
“He’s not a cat person, that’s for sure. You should’ve seen the look
on his face when I made him hold it.”

V: THE V IN VALOR

Roxie laughed as she looked at the photo. “That’s it, the

wedding’s off. It would’ve never worked out anyway. How can
you not like cats?”

“What wedding?” Matt reminded her, “It wouldn’t work out

because he’s already shacking up with me. Hands off, sister.”

Roxie gave him a withering look. “Oh, please. This is Virginia,

Matt. You can’t marry him. Let a girl dream, will you?”

He felt like a jealous sibling when he pointed out, “Dream all

you want, honey. He’s still mine. Unless you manage to grow an
added appendage somewhere—”

“Enough.” She covered her ears with both hands, which made

Matt smirk in triumph. Who was being childish now? “I don’t need
your wildly homoerotic evil tainting my innocent thoughts.”

Beneath his breath, Matt muttered, “They’re tainted enough

already, I’m sure.”

He had to jump back to avoid the small fist swung his way.

“You’re lucky you ate those donuts, mister,” Roxie warned, “or I’d
take them back.”

“Indian giver!” he cried.
With a laugh, he pushed through the door before she could

stand and swing again. When he finally reached the pool’s office a
few minutes later, he turned on his own computer to find a
message from Roxie in his inbox. You’re lucky I don’t buy a big
strap-on dildo and steal your man!! He’d leave you for me in a
heart beat.

Matt grinned as he typed a short response. Keep telling yourself

that.

* * *

V: THE V IN VALOR

Vic woke a little before ten and stumbled to the bathroom.

After relieving himself, he splashed cold water on his face and
frowned at his visage in the mirror. Faint lines were beginning to
develop in the corners of his eyes. He grimaced, an intimidating
look, but the lines didn’t deepen. So he smiled widely instead, and
his eyes crinkled. One more thing Matt was giving him—before he
met his lover, Vic hadn’t been much for smiling before. Now that
Matt was in his life, he had wrinkles. If I didn’t shave it all off, I’m
sure I’d have grey hair, too, from all the freaky situations his
powers have put me in over the years.

But honestly? He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Without turning, he stretched an arm behind him and tried to

will the towel off its rack. Sunday evening they’d made love the
same way they had earlier in the weekend, giving Vic the
telekinetic ability to move objects with his mind. Last night’s
coupling had been partially out of curiosity—would the same
position yield the same results a second time? Plus Vic liked the
position, himself on his belly, his dick stimulated by the weight of
his own body and the firm mattress beneath him. The pillow in his
arms, his toes curled in the sheets. Matt straddling him, and his
lover’s weight was a welcome one when he lay above Vic just
before he came. The telekinetic ability hadn’t been that bad…or, at
least, it was easy to hide. If the same position worked a second
time…

But the towel stayed in place without so much as a wiggle.

Maybe the powers had negated each other? Vic had never tried to
cancel a power out by repeating the position that had given it to
him. In the past if he drew a sucky ability—say, like the time his
skin paled until it looked like frosted glass, nothing but a thin
membrane stretched taut over his veins and bones—then he and

V: THE V IN VALOR

Matt always tried for a different power to replace it. That time,
with the glassy skin, had been the only time Vic had ever insisted
on keeping the lights out when they fucked. The sight of his own
insides flexing and pumping away had nauseated him so much,
Matt had to use every trick at his disposal to arouse his lover. The
memory of looking at himself in the mirror that day and seeing
through his own skin still made Vic shudder.

So perhaps repeating a position didn’t increase the ability. Vic

had noticed in the past that the things he or Matty wore or thought
about during the deed could affect the superpower he received
afterward. Maybe his mind had drifted, or they’d done something
just slightly different, and now he’d have to just wait for the
consequences. As long as it didn’t keep him from work. He’d used
up most of his sick days already, calling in with a variety of comic
book ailments that kept him home. An image flashed before him—
himself, ghost-like, his skin transparent, a look of horror
airbrushed onto his skull as he had watched his heart beat
obscenely beneath the cage of ribs in his chest.

With a violent shake, Vic closed his eyes and turned from the

mirror. Worst power ever, that had been, without question. He
reached for his robe, hanging on the back of the bathroom door…

And ducked as it zoomed at him to crash into the closed shower

curtain. The screw on which it had hung clattered into the
porcelain tub and rolled toward the drain.

Frowning, Vic held out his hand again and willed the robe to

rise. It didn’t. The fabric lay where it had fallen. Well then why…?

Vic tugged back the shower curtain. The screw from the back

of the door was a good four inches long, with splinters of wood
still in its threads. It had rolled to a stop across the mouth of the
drain. Vic bent down over the edge of the tub, reaching out to pick

V: THE V IN VALOR

up the nail.

Before he could touch it, it flew into his hand.
So maybe repetition didn’t cancel out a power so much as

modify it. He’d gone from being able to mentally move any object
to…what? Only metal?

He glanced up at the shower head above him. It trembled under

the weight of his gaze, a faint squeal rising in the pipes as it tried to
move. Vic shut his eyes—the noise stopped. Blindly he leaned
back, reaching for the towel rack to help him stand.

A loud tearing sound rent the air. Vic felt the metal bar hit his

palm with no support behind it. When he looked over his shoulder,
he saw it had pulled itself free from the wall at his command—in
its place, a dark hole gaped in the broken tiles, and the bar hung at
an awkward angle, only anchored at the far end.

Damn.
“Yeah,” he muttered, jamming the loose end of the bar back

into the wall. “Only metal.”

How many metal things did he come across during the day?

Let’s see, he thought, retrieving his robe from the floor. The car,
the bus, the time clock, the lockers at work, the handle on the
toilet— he looked over at the commode and, as if on cue, it flushed
itself.

This was going to be a long day.

* * *

Vic worked an eight hour shift with a thirty minute break

around late afternoon for lunch. But he usually stopped somewhere
downtown for a bite to eat before he got to the bus garage. This
morning it was a bit disconcerting—and more than a little fun, if

V: THE V IN VALOR

he were honest—to wave a hand across the small end table by the
front door to his apartment and watch his car keys jump eagerly
into his palm. A gesture over his shoulder closed the door behind
him, locking it for good measure as the keys floated a few inches
nearby. On his way downstairs, the door to his building opened,
waiting for him. Hinges contained metal, as did door knobs and
locks. This power might not be so bad after all.

At the curb, his car jumped like an eager puppy when he

walked around it, heading for the driver’s side. He unlocked the
door without using the key, and probably could’ve started the
engine the same way, but he wasn’t quite sure the mechanics of it
all and settled for guiding the keys into the ignition and
commanding them to turn with a flick of his wrist. Beneath him,
the car roared to life.

Unfortunately, that was the limit of his ability. The steering

wheel was plastic, as was the cover on the gear shaft. Putting the
car into first, Vic edged away from the curb, his mind already
drifting to food. After the fiasco in the bathroom, he was running a
little late. Not a sit-down restaurant, then, and nowhere with slow
service. At quarter to noon on a weekday, however, that eliminated
most of the busy little delis and eateries downtown getting ready
for the lunchtime rush.

Avoiding the interstate, Vic took a more circuitous route as he

appraised his options. No burger joints, and definitely nothing that
was part of a chain. He wanted to fill up, not bulk up. At the corner
of Boulevard and Leigh Street, he slowed as he drove by a small
barbecue stand. Now that might work. A large bun filled with
pulled pork, dripping with barbecue sauce and homemade cole
slaw…

Wait. Vic noticed a vendor cart farther down Leigh and turned

V: THE V IN VALOR

in the middle of the intersection. A couple construction workers
queued up at the cart, which was always a sign of good eats. Vic
parked across the street, in front of the battered husk of an old
warehouse whose concrete block walls appeared to be held up with
nothing but scaffolding and a prayer. Huge yellow excavators and
backhoes sat around the structure like discarded children’s toys. It
must’ve been lunch time for the crew—no one lingered on the
scaffolding, and there was an aura of neglect about the site. A
smaller building farther back on the lot hunched by the chain link
fence, in worse shape than the main building. As Vic climbed out
of his car, he saw a construction sign hanging on the fence that
enclosed the site. MOVIELAND! Coming Soon!

Vic looked around. The two-lane side street with its barbecue

joint on the corner and a row of office buildings across the
Boulevard wasn’t exactly someplace he would’ve expected to find
the next teenage hangout. A trio of boys on bikes goofed off
farther down Leigh, jumping off the curb and hopping back up
again when a car approached. More than one driver hit his horn,
earning the boys’ derisive laughter.

Vic waited until the street was clear before he crossed to the

vendor cart. Who put a movie theater in a place like this? The
traffic would worsen and the people who worked across the
Boulevard weren’t likely to duck inside for a quick flick at lunch.
Poor planning, in his opinion. Next thing he knew, they’d reroute
the buses out here to capitalize on the situation, and Vic dreaded
navigating this narrow side street in that big behemoth he drove.

The vendor cart sold Italian sausages dressed with peppers and

onions on a warm bun. Vic bought two—they were a good size,
easily half a foot long, and should hold him through the first part of
his day. With the two buns wrapped in foil in one hand, a large cup

V: THE V IN VALOR

of cold Coke in the other, he trotted back to his car, then noticed a
bench at the end of the block. A bus stop, no less. So they already
ran a route down this way. At least it isn’t mine, Vic thought as he
took a seat. The Coke went on the bench beside him, as did one of
the sausages. The other disappeared in a couple heavenly bites.

In the distance, he heard laughter—the boys on the bikes, he

suspected. Somewhere a dog barked, and along the Boulevard, cars
and the occasional truck zoomed through the intersection. Brakes
squealed when the light turned red. The dog barked again, an
agitated sound, as Vic started in on the second sausage.

Dogs were too noisy, Vic thought. Especially those little ones,

the purse pooches so popular among Hollywood’s young ladies. At
least cats were quiet creatures for the most part, though Vic had
seen his landlady’s felines swarm around her legs as she unpacked
her groceries, and he didn’t think he could stand something
constantly under his feet like that. Or sitting on the dining room
table grooming itself as he ate. Or sleeping in his bed.

Why would Matt want a pet anyway? Vic didn’t recall his lover

ever mentioning one before. Before they met, Matt had lived a
playboy lifestyle—impeccable clothes, flashy sports car, gelled
curls. There had been a hint of desperation in his appearance, Vic
realized looking back, something stand-offish that said quite
clearly, “Look but don’t touch.” Even though Matt had sought him
out after ditching his then-boyfriend Kyle, Vic had had to work
through that flirtatious exterior to find the real man inside.

It’d been an act, Vic knew that now, designed to keep others at

bay and hide Matt’s odd talent—the ability to endow his lover with
superhuman power through intercourse. In the time they’d been
together, Matt had matured in a lot of ways, mellowed out, settled
down. He still strived to look good, but he didn’t waste money on

V: THE V IN VALOR

designer jeans or the hottest fashions, and though his Jaguar was
kept in running order, he wasn’t looking to splurge on the latest
model. He’d moved into Vic’s apartment and slowly taken over
every aspect of his life. Matt didn’t live for himself anymore;
neither did Vic. Together they were complete, one complementing
the other, neither whole when alone.

And truthfully? Vic wouldn’t have it any other way.
Maybe Matt’s request for a pet was another step in their

relationship. It would be a big responsibility, one they’d have to
share. Almost like having a baby, Vic mused with a shake of his
head. One that never grew up, one they’d have to feed and care for
constantly. It was a huge commitment, not to be taken lightly. First
a pet, then a house, and God, then a ring…

Vic felt his cheeks heat up at that. Lately he’d been noticing the

rings worn by the fares who rode his bus. Wedding rings with large
diamonds, and thick gold bands that made his stomach flutter with
a nervousness alien to him. A band like that, on Matt’s hand, that
he’d put there? Sweet Jesus, the thought made him sweat. Talk
about a big step—

Behind him, the dog’s incessant barking broke off into a series

of yelps. With something akin to relief, Vic dropped the thought of
a ring and reached out with his mind. He couldn’t communicate
with animals, he knew—it wasn’t that they didn’t think so much as
what went on inside their heads was so foreign to him, he couldn’t
comprehend it. And though he wasn’t an animal lover by any
stretch of the imagination, Vic knew the sound of pain when he
heard it. Those yelps weren’t healthy. That dog was hurting.

A mental scan of the area turned up the three boys, their bikes

discarded just inside a break in the chain link fence. They were
behind the smaller building, pegging rocks at a Dumpster behind

V: THE V IN VALOR

which the dog hid. One of the boys laughed as his rock bounced
off the side of the building, mere inches from where the dog
cowered. Vic brushed over the boys’ minds and found a memory
of another rock striking the poor animal’s side before it had ducked
behind the Dumpster. It was an older canine with a dirty golden
hide, its fur worn through in spots, one ear ragged with dried
blood.

Another rock pinged off the Dumpster—even from where he

sat, Vic could hear it. The dog barked once, then whimpered as the
boys edged around the trash bin in an attempt to hit it with the next
stone.

Indignation flooded Vic, an anger so righteous, he surged to his

feet. He might not be an animal person but hell, throwing rocks at
a defenseless dog? What the fuck did people teach their children
these days? Leaving his drink on the bench, he clenched his fist
and squelched the last few bites of his sausage in its foil wrapper.
If he could, he’d project himself into the mind of that dog and
force it to attack those damn kids. Teach them a lesson…

Or shit, why should the dog have all the fun?
With long strides, Vic strode down the street alongside the

fence, looking for the hole through which the kids had entered the
construction lot. When he found it, he ducked inside. The bikes
were piled together on the ground, discarded. The boys had split
up—two stood at one end of the Dumpster, their friend at the other
end, trapping the dog. They couldn’t have been more than sixteen,
Vic thought. Why weren’t they in school? Better yet, chasing after
girls? Or hell, after boys, as Vic had been doing at their age?
Playing video games, texting their friends, hanging out at the
mall…anything but terrorizing a stray dog.

As Vic watched, the tallest boy pulled back his arm, winding

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up for a good throw, a large stone in his fist. “Hey!” Vic barked.
He scowled, a look that could frighten the toughest of men. These
kids didn’t stand a chance against it. “What the fuck are you boys
doing?”

The three kids turned as one. Fear flashed across their faces,

and Vic thought that would be the end of it. But the tall boy, he
had spunk. Hefting the rock in his hand, he asked, “What’s it to
you?”

“Leave that dog alone,” Vic warned.
The boy laughed, defiant. “What dog?” Turning to his friend,

he shrugged and asked, “Do you see a dog here? I don’t.”

Behind the Dumpster, the dog barked once, as if relieved to be

rescued.

Tossing the rock at it, the boy hollered, “Shut up, you mutt.”
A metallic squeal rent the air as the Dumpster’s lid rose and

bent back, twisting off its hinges. The rock struck the lid and
bounced back at the boys, missing the dog completely. The kids
stared at each other, mouths agape. “How’d that happen?” one of
them asked.

“I said leave it alone,” Vic reminded them.
The tall boy stooped to pick up another rock. This time, he

aimed at Vic. “Fuck you, asshole.”

On any other day, the rock might have hit Vic square in the

face. But there was enough trace metal in it to let Vic’s telekinetic
ability send it flying off to one side. Taking a deep breath to reign
in his anger, Vic said, “Because you’re young and stupid? I’m
going to pretend you didn’t do that.”

The other kid grabbed his friend’s arm. “Let’s go, Bobby. It’s

not worth it.”

But Bobby was already on the ground, a handful of rocks

V: THE V IN VALOR

gathered into both hands. “This old man is dead,” he promised.

Old man. Vic rolled his eyes—had he been this precocious at

their age? He didn’t think so. And he wasn’t old. Old men needed
little blue pills to get it up, and Vic saw more action on a regular
basis than most guys half his age. “Look,” he tried, “I’ll give you
to the count of three. One—”

Bobby threw his stones, which fell like rain a good two feet in

front of Vic. The kid standing by himself laughed. “Dude, you
suck.”

Behind Vic, the bicycles began to rattle nervously, as if anxious

to get going. “Two.”

Another handful of rocks. This time Vic didn’t just let them

fall, but sent them back at Bobby, who ducked as they pelted him.
Directly into the kid’s mind, Vic asked, ::Doesn’t feel too good,
does it?::

“Let’s get out of here,” one of Bobby’s friends said, fear in his

voice.

“Three.” Vic gave them a sinister grin. “Time’s up.”
The two nameless boys raced for their bikes but Bobby stood

his ground, unwilling to be chased off. Closing his eyes, Vic
channeled the energy coursing through him and directed it at the
thin frames of the bikes. When the kids touched the handlebars, the
metal curled around their wrists like handcuffs. One boy shrieked;
the other yelled, “Get it off! Get it off!”

Seemingly alive, the frames snaked around the boys’ waists.

Their hands were pulled behind their backs, their arms pinned at
their sides. Then the bikes rose in the air, moving toward the fence,
where the front tires snagged on posts high above the ground. The
boys hung, suspended, held prisoner by the twisted metal of their
bikes.

V: THE V IN VALOR

When Vic opened his eyes, Bobby glared at him. Without a

word, the boy turned and ran.

A nod of Vic’s head brought Bobby’s bike to life. It flew after

him like vengeance and tackled the boy to the ground. He got the
same treatment as his friends—the handlebars tightened around his
wrists as the rest of the bike wound around him. Then he was
hoisted into the air and hung from the fence like the others.

The fight in his eyes didn’t die. “Get me down, you freak! I’ll

call the police! You’re so dead!”

With a flick of his hand, Vic sent a piece of scrap metal flying

at Bobby. It clamped across his mouth like a gag, silencing him.
“Shut the fuck up.”

Vic glanced at the other two boys, who shook their heads and

pressed their lips together tight to show they wouldn’t argue. What
had Bobby said? I’ll call the police…

Good idea. Vic held a hand out at his waist—his cell phone

leaped from its holster on his belt into his palm. It flipped open on
its own so Vic could press and hold the number four button.
Number one on his speed dial was voicemail; two and three were
Matt’s cell and office numbers. Four was a direct line to…

“Kendra here.” The woman’s voice was tinny but clear. Vic

raised the phone to his ear. “Hey, Vic. What’s up?”

“You on duty?” he asked. Officer Kendra Jones worked for the

Richmond City police. She was the only person Vic had ever told
about his superpowers and how he got them.

“I’m at lunch,” she admitted. “Where do you need me to be?”
“Over here on Leigh Street, near that new movie place they’re

building.” Edging around the Dumpster, Vic glanced in the
darkness and saw bright eyes staring back at him. The dog scooted
away and Vic knelt, the rest of his sausage held out like a peace

V: THE V IN VALOR

offering. Cautiously, the dog inched forward, nose quivering. “I
had a run in with some kids messing with a dog. I could use a
hand.”

“Is the dog all right?” Kendra asked.
Vic shrugged. “Don’t know. It’s hiding.”
With a laugh, she asked, “Are the kids all right?”
“I didn’t touch them,” Vic said. Technically, that wasn’t a lie.
“I’ll be right there,” Kendra promised.
As he hung up, Vic felt something hot and wet lick his fingers.

He looked down to find the dog still crouching behind the
Dumpster, but its head had stretched out and its tongue tasted Vic’s
hand. Then it found the remains of the sausage and bit at it. When
Vic moved, a low growl rose in the back of the dog’s throat.

“Shh,” Vic murmured. “It’s cool. It’s okay.”
The growl cut off as the dog watched him, wary.
Vic extended his hand a little farther. “Go on, take it.”
With one large bite, the dog snagged the sausage and pulled it

out of Vic’s palm. It scooted back into the darkness behind the
Dumpster, growling again as it ate.

Vic leaned back against the side of the building and sank into a

squatting position to wait for Kendra.

* * *

By the time she arrived, the dog had inched out from its hiding

spot and lain down on the ground beside Vic, head resting on its
forepaws. It was a large dog—no mere puppy, from the size of it.
Some sort of Labrador mix, Vic would guess. It had short hair
mottled into dirty clumps, and the bloody ear flopped over one
chocolate eye. Every so often, it would snort with an almost

V: THE V IN VALOR

human-like sigh as it gave Vic the most pitiful of looks. He didn’t
know what to do—was it injured? Hungry? Hurt? It had downed
the rest of his lunch, and as much as he wanted to buy another
sausage or three for it to eat, he didn’t want to leave it alone.

Or the boys, for that matter. Bobby’s angry mutterings were

muffled by the strip of metal across his mouth, and his friends had
given up yelling for help until they saw the police cruiser slow to a
stop at the curb. As Kendra Jones climbed out of the vehicle, the
kids started up again. “Hey! Help! Help!”

Ignoring them, Kendra ducked through the opening in the fence

and crossed to where Vic waited. He rose to meet her; the dog
stood, as well, one forepaw drawn up in pain. Kendra pushed the
cap back from her heart-shaped face and smiled up at him. “I
thought you said you didn’t touch them.”

“My prints ain’t on those bikes,” Vic assured her.
Casting a doubtful eye at Bobby, Kendra asked, “I guess they

just did that themselves, eh?”

Vic shrugged. “You could say that. Can I press charges or

something?”

“It’s not your dog.” Kendra glanced at the mutt, who woofed

softly and rubbed its muzzle into Vic’s palm. Absently, he petted
the top of its head. “Look, Vic. I’ll be honest with you. I can drag
the kids downtown but they’re juvies, you know? We can only
hold them until their parents come pick them up. They’ll get
slapped with a fine or community service, if that. The dog won’t be
so lucky.”

Narrowing his eyes, Vic asked, “What do you mean?”
Kendra looked off in the distance, unable to meet his gaze.

“The pound is full of animals like this. Abandoned, thrown away. I
called Animal Control on the way over and they should be here

V: THE V IN VALOR

soon. We’ll take the dog to the SPCA, let a vet go over it, make
sure it’s not somebody’s pet that’s run away. But after that, I’m
going to have to take it to the pound. It’s an older dog, and not
really…you know, cute and cuddly, see? It’s a little wild, a little
ragged. It’s probably not a likely candidate for adoption.”

Vic’s fingers found a soft spot behind the dog’s ears and

scratched. The dog leaned into him, loving the attention. Yeah, so
it wasn’t picture perfect—neither was he. “You’re saying what, life
in a cage, then?” Vic asked. “What’s wrong with that? At least it’ll
have food and shelter.”

Kendra’s mouth twisted as if she’d bitten into a lemon. “Not

for long. The pound keeps it a week maybe, less if they’re
overcrowded.”

“Then what?” Vic wanted to know.
The look she gave him was torturous. He didn’t have to read

her mind to see what it meant. Then it’ll be put down. As if it were
a nuisance to be rubbed out, eliminated. Euthanized. Destroyed.

Vic frowned at the dog. Its sad eyes were closed as it savored

the feel of his fingers rubbing behind its ears. Its weight felt heavy
and warm where it leaned against his leg. He recalled the way it
had approached him, tentatively at first, then confident he wouldn’t
harm it. And here it sat, trusting as it let him pet it, with no clue
Kendra spoke so casually of ending its life.

His voice was gruff when he finally spoke. “I’m late for work.

Call me, will you? Let me know if it belongs to someone or not.
Can you do that?”

Quickly, Kendra nodded. “Sure. Do you want—”
He cut her off. “I don’t know. Just let me think about it, will

you? Don’t do anything rash.”

She nodded again. “I won’t. I think it likes you.”

V: THE V IN VALOR

Vic frowned harder, a built-in defense mechanism he used to

keep the rest of the world at bay. But it didn’t work on the dog,
who had leaned its head back and now let Vic rub beneath its chin,
and he suspected it didn’t work on Kendra, either. “I got to get to
work.” He heard the squeal of brakes and glanced down the street
at a white van pulling to a stop. “Is that Animal Control? Make
sure you call me. If I don’t hear from you by the time I clock out—
”

“You will,” Kendra promised. “I won’t let them do anything

with the dog until I talk to you.”

With a nod, Vic gave the dog a quick pat and moved away. It

took a step after him, but at Vic’s stern look, it sank to its rear
haunches and waited. “Good boy,” Vic muttered beneath his
breath.

As if it had heard him, the dog woofed once. Vic hoped it

belonged to someone. Maybe he wouldn’t have to be the one to
decide the poor mutt’s fate. But somehow he doubted that.

When he headed for the break in the fence, Kendra cleared her

throat, stopping him. “Vic?” she called out.

He turned, scowling.
With a sympathetic smile, she pointed behind him. “Can you

maybe get these guys down for me? I can’t take them in like this.”

Vic held his hands out at his sides, palms open, and imagined

his fingers linking through the holes in the fence’s chain. Closing
his hands into fists, he felt the power surge from him to grasp at
the fence; one hard tug and the metal posts bent like straws,
folding into themselves until they snapped. The boys cried out as
they tumbled down hard to the rock-strewn ground.

Kendra’s eyes went wide. With a smile of his own, this one

mischievous, Vic pointed out, “I didn’t touch them, did I?”

V: THE V IN VALOR

* * *

Something Roxie had said in jest about her wedding to Vic

bothered Matt for the rest of the day. “You can’t marry him…”

Well, why the hell not?
Yes, the law wouldn’t recognize the union. And yes, no church

in the state would sanctify it. But who needed a showy ceremony
anyway? Why not just a simple exchange of vows in front of a few
dozen friends? Why not proclaim their love to each other that way,
clothed for once, and wear matching rings to let everyone else
know?

Heading back to his office off the gym’s pool, Matt turned on

his computer and Googled “wedding bands.” Bands, not rings, but
all the search results were intricate women’s rings laden with
decadent diamonds. Not what he had in mind. He tried again,
typing in “men’s wedding bands” this time, but the results only
pulled up matching his-and-her sets. Again, not his cup of tea.
Some of the men’s gold bands were attractive, to be sure, but he
didn’t see Vic donning a diamond any time soon…

With a furtive glance at the pool, where a mother watched her

children play in the shallow end and an adult water aerobics class
exercised a little farther out, Matt typed the word “gay” in front of
the others in his search bar. He didn’t know if it would make it
through the gym’s firewall sensors or not, and the first porn site it
pulled up, he was turning the whole thing off. But he’d seen some
pretty sketchy stuff on Roxie’s computer when she thought he
wasn’t watching—one of her favorite ways to pass a lazy afternoon
was reading band slash, whatever that was. Matt didn’t know for
sure, but he’d seen the word “fuck” on the screen a time or two,
and not used as an expletive, either. Once he’d managed to read a

V: THE V IN VALOR

paragraph about some pop band called 2ICE, whose male members
were pleasuring each other in great detail, before Roxie realized he
stood behind her and closed down the browser.

So if the gym’s IT person didn’t get bent out of shape over that,

he didn’t think a search for rings favored by gay men would do it.
Unless the search returned cock rings. Then he was in trouble.

But no cock rings came up in the search results, thank God.

Instead, he found a ton of cheesy rings—why was the word “gay”
synonymous with “crap” to online retailers? Rings with rainbows
swirled around them, rings with a double Mars symbol etched into
their faces, rings with pink triangles in a pattern all the way around
the finger. Rings that would get you in more fights than you
wanted. Rings that told the world, in no uncertain terms, “I’m
queer.”

After the first few websites he visited, Matt got frustrated and

almost said the hell with it when a banner ad caught his attention.
It was subtle—nothing more than two male hands, one holding the
other, the same gold ring on both. Matt clicked on the ad; before
the page even finished loading, he saw it. The ring he had to have.

Yes, there was a triangle on it, in the front of the ring, but it

wasn’t gaudy or tacky. Instead, six diamond chips formed the
triangle, which was set in a simple band of polished white gold. It
was, in a word, breathtaking. When Matt imagined slipping that
ring onto Vic’s left hand, his whole body tingled with delight. His
breath caught in his throat, his heart began to race, and a fine sweat
broke out along his nape, just under his curls. This was it. This was
the ring that said it all.

Forever.
The price, though, was a bit out of Matt’s range. One ring alone

would set him back a month’s salary, and the pair of them? Hell,

V: THE V IN VALOR

he’d have to take out a loan. But hey, he reasoned, this wasn’t
exactly something he’d be dropping money into every other year or
so. These rings, like his relationship with Vic, would last a
lifetime.

Still, maybe it was too much, too soon. The men had been

together for a few years now, sure, but Matt’s hand trembled when
he moved the mouse to bookmark the page, and the thought of
actually buying something this…this permanent…well, that
terrified him. Not because he didn’t believe their relationship
would last but because he just wasn’t ready to…

What?
He didn’t know. He had to talk to Vic first, before he took such

a giant step. He didn’t want to do something this big alone. It had
to be a decision they’d make together, and not one he talked Vic
into, either. Getting a pet was nothing compared to exchanging
rings.

Matt bookmarked the site a second time, just to be safe, then

clicked on the link to email the page to himself, as well. He loved
those rings. Maybe he’d bring it up tonight, just jokingly at first,
and see what Vic thought of the idea. They had talked of other
huge purchases—getting new cars, buying a house—and they had
money in their savings that they tapped into occasionally for
vacations or weekend trips. Together they could afford the rings.

But it would have to be together.
Matt wouldn’t rush things. They had the rest of their lives to

pick out the perfect rings, if they even bothered to get them. Still,
he didn’t see any harm in mentioning it later tonight.

* * *

V: THE V IN VALOR

After work, Matt headed home. Though it was early evening,

he wasn’t very hungry and didn’t bother cooking dinner right
away. He liked waiting for Vic, when he could, and his lover
usually came in between eight-thirty and nine o’clock. So Matt
changed out of his swim trunks and gym clothes, took a quick
shower, and stretched out on the bed they shared, just to rest his
eyes.

Several hours later, he woke with a start.
A glance at the clock on his bedside table showed it was nine

fifteen. Settling back against the pillows, he tried to connect with
Vic’s mind and couldn’t. ::Vic?::

No response.
With a yawn, Matt rolled onto his side, grasping Vic’s pillow

with both hands and hugging it to him. His lover’s scent enveloped
him, clean and strong. He shouldn’t have napped, he thought as his
eyes slipped shut again. He couldn’t seem to keep them open. Now
he’d be up all night, and he didn’t even have dinner ready yet…

He shook his head, trying to stay awake, but it was no use. The

pillows around him were too soft, and his eyelids too heavy, his
whole body eager to drop back into sleep. Just another few
moments, he thought. Just until Vic came home.

Vic. Who should’ve been home already.
Matt opened one eye to glance at the clock again. Nine twenty,

damn . He closed his eyes for a second and the minutes just flew
past. Where was his man, anyway?

For a long moment, Matt considered retrieving his cell and

calling Vic on his. Just to check up on him, see where he was. The
thought was so vivid, so real, that Matt dreamed he sat up, reached
for his cell phone, and flipped it open. As he was dialing Vic’s
number, he heard his lover’s voice loud and clear. ::Hey, Matty.::

V: THE V IN VALOR

In his dream, Matt placed the phone to his ear. ::There you are.

I was getting worried. When are you getting here?::

He could feel Vic frown, even if he couldn’t see him. ::I’m just

around the corner. I’ll be there in two minutes, tops.::

::Then why’d you answer your phone?:: Matt asked. Why not

speak with him telepathically, if he were so close?

The confusion was bright in Vic’s voice. ::What? I’m not on

my phone.::

Matt stretched—the bed sheets rustled around him, and the

dream of sitting on the edge of the bed with his phone in his hand
dissipated. Aloud, he murmured, “I must still be asleep. Vic?”

::Two minutes,:: his lover promised. ::I’ll wake you up when I

get in.::

With a sense of relief, Matt snuggled into Vic’s pillow again

and drifted off a second time. Another dream played out in his
mind—this time he sat on the sofa, waiting for Vic to arrive, his
hands behind his back. In each, he held a small velvet box; in each
box was one of those triangle diamond rings he’d seen online. One
for him, one for Vic. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he heard
his lover approach. First there were heavy footsteps on the stairs,
then in the hall. Then a key scraped into the lock, and the front
door swung open. In Matt’s dream, Vic looked larger than life,
filling the doorway like a god. From his seat on the couch, Matt
held out his hands and said, “Pick one.”

Vic dropped to his knee in response. Matt laughed. “No, silly,

I’m doing the proposing.”

Without a word, Vic took one of Matt’s feet into his hands and

caressed the sole with long strokes. Raising the foot to his face, he
rubbed his goatee along the bottoms of Matt’s toes, tickling them.
The short bristles of hair felt like fur along his foot. Matt writhed

V: THE V IN VALOR

on the couch, snickering. ::Vic! Please…::

Still silent, Vic licked out, his tongue wetting the tips of Matt’s

toes. The sensation was maddening as Vic worked between each
toe individually, then began to lap the sole of Matt’s foot. The
remnants of Matt’s dream fell away as he woke to find himself
lying in bed above the sheets, one leg dangling over the edge of the
mattress, something cold and damp nosing at his ankle as that hot
tongue continued to lick his foot.

From the bathroom, Matt heard the light click off and the toilet

flush. In a low voice, Vic admonished, “Stop that.”

All traces of sleepiness disappeared in an instant. Matt sat up

quickly, pulling his legs to his chest. If Vic were over there, then
who…or what…? Reaching for the lamp on the bedside table, Matt
called out, “Vic? Don’t tell me that wasn’t you.”

He turned on the lamp, and its golden glow pushed the shadows

back from the bed. Matt saw Vic kneeling on the floor—like in my
dream, he thought, shaking his head. There were no rings, though,
and between Vic’s legs sat a large, golden dog who watched Matt
with dark, shiny eyes. Its broad tongue hung out as it panted
happily, and when it met Matt’s gaze, it woofed once, softly.
“Hush,” Vic said, struggling to release the clasp that held its leash
to its collar.

The dog’s tail beat the floor in a rapid staccato pattern, and

every few moments, the dog turned its head to lick out at Vic’s ear.
The first time it did that, Vic swatted it away and it chased after his
hand, eager to coat that, too, with its spit. From where he sat on the
bed, Matt grinned. “What’s this?”

Vic gave him a sardonic look. “A dog. What’s it look like?”
“Is it ours?” Matt wanted to know.
With a final click, Vic got the leash free and the dog leapt from

V: THE V IN VALOR

his arms to clamber onto the bed to join Matt. “Hey!” Vic shouted,
but the dog ignored him. “Matty, not on the bed…”

Matt ignored him, as well. Catching the dog’s face in both

hands, he rubbed behind the dog’s ears as he leaned in close—the
dog licked his face, happy to meet him. “Who’s a good boy?” Matt
cooed. “Is you mine? Did big ol’ Vic get you for me? Yes, I think
so. I really think so.”

“Why do you do that?” Vic wanted to know. “You see an

animal and you act like you’re two.”

To the dog, Matt asked, “Is someone jealous?”
Vic stood, arms crossed, the leash wrapped around one fist, and

glared at the two of them on the bed. Extracting himself from the
dog, Matt wiped the slobber off his cheeks with his T-shirt as he
stood. He sidled up to Vic, smoothing his arms around his lover’s
waist, and hugged him tight. Behind him, the dog settled into the
middle of the bed, watching.

In a low voice, Matt murmured, “You didn’t have to.”
“I couldn’t just leave it,” Vic said.
Gently, Matt eased into Vic’s mind, curious about how he had

ended up with the dog. When he found Vic’s memory of what had
happened that afternoon at the construction site, he heard Kendra’s
words and shuddered. Hugging his lover tight, he whispered,
“Thank you.”

Vic sighed, perturbed, but Matt touched his face and his mood

softened. The arms clenched so tight across his chest opened,
taking Matt into his embrace. “It’s not sleeping in the bed.”

“We’ll buy a pet bed,” Matt agreed. “I’m not sharing you with

anything else. You’re all mine.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

J. M. S

NYDER

An author of gay erotic/romantic fiction, J. M. Snyder began self-
publishing gay erotic fiction in 2002. Since then, Snyder has
released several books in trade paperback format and has begun
exploring the world of e-publishing, working with Amber Quill
Press and other e-publishers. Snyder’s highly erotic short gay
fiction has been published online at Ruthie’s Club, Tit-Elation,
Sticky Pen, and Amazon Shorts, as well as in anthologies by Aspen
Mountain Press and Cleis Press. A full bibliography, as well as
free fiction, book excerpts, purchasing information, and exclusive
contests, can be found at:

www.jmsnyder.net

* * *

Don’t miss Seventh Inning Stretch

by J. M. Snyder,

available at AmberAllure.com!

Every year, a local hospice hosts a charity baseball tournament
played by four gyms in the Richmond area. This year, the gym
where Matt diLorenzo works is chosen to compete. When Matt
misses another staff meeting because he’s “busy in bed,” his co-

worker Roxie signs him up to captain one of the gym’s two
baseball teams. The first person Matt plans to recruit is his lover
Vic Braunson—who somehow gains superpowers from their
lovemaking—and those superpowers will definitely help out on the
field.

Unfortunately, the gym has segregated their teams into staff and
members. Matt works at the gym; he heads the staff team. Vic, a
member, is asked to play on the members’ team.

Disappointed, Matt suggests they abstain from sex for the next
week to avoid giving Vic any powers that might help his team win
the ballgame. But before long, Matt discovers that keeping his
hands to himself is easier said than done. And when the two teams
face off against each other, he finds it almost impossible to keep
his mind on the game.

Through the mental connection they share, Vic picks up on Matt’s
lustful thoughts. They ruin his concentration, and threaten to throw
the game. Matt wants him, badly. So Vic corners his lover in the
locker room during the seventh inning stretch to find out just what
Matt has in mind…

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