Bonds of Love

open.
But Matt shook his head, adamant. “Oh, no, mister. Noexperiments, you hear me? If you even so much as look at aknife, I’ll hurt you myself. If I have to tie you down to thebed—”
Kissing the tender skin behind Matt’s ear, Vicwhispered, “I thought you’d never suggest it.”
* * * *
There were three bruises on Vic’s chest, dark blackspots like hickeys where the bullets had hit. As he shrugged out ofhis shirt, Matt ran his hand over the discolored flesh, then kissedeach one as if that alone made everything better. Then his lipsclosed over one ruddy nipple and Vic gasped. His shirt dropped tothe floor, the faint rustle of fabric followed by a smattering ofsound, like coins falling to the floor at his feet. “Sounds like Ihit the jackpot,” Matt said, kneeling to see what Vic haddropped.
He picked up three thick metal disks from the carpetand held them out for Vic. “I think I found your bullets.”
Taking them from Matt, Vic frowned at the flat,silver slugs. They had gone through his shirt to strike his chest,then flattened against his skin. He couldn’t help but wonder, wasit just bullets though? He imagined a knife stabbing at him only tobreak off at the hilt, or totaling his car and walking away withouta scratch. No paper cuts, no shaving nicks, no injuries of anykind. That might be a handy power to have.
As Vic studied the bullets, insistent hands unbuckledhis belt, then unzipped his jeans. Gentle fingers probed into hisopen fly to strum over the start of an erection hidden in hisbriefs. Matt’s touch brought a slow smile to Vic’s face.“Indestructible,” he said out loud. “What do you think ofthat?”
Plucking at the waistband of his briefs, Matt easedthe material down to expose the bulbous tip of Vic’s hardeningdick. He kissed the spongy cockhead, then licked down the sensitiveslit, his tongue warm and wet. At Vic’s sharp intake of breath,Matt teased, “I think I can bring you to your knees.”
“Every man has his weakness,” Vic started, butwhatever else he wanted to say was lost as Matt suckled on hisswollen glans. Passion flared between them, igniting their mentalconnection and setting them both aflame with desire and a suddensexual energy that fanned their love. Vic fisted his hands inMatt’s cottony curls, and his lover tugged his briefs down fartherto take his full length into an eager, willing mouth.
* * * *

Chapter 4
The next morning Vic woke to an empty bed—Matt’s dayat the gym usually started early, and with Vic’s double shifts inthe summer, they rarely saw much of each other in the mornings.Sometimes when Vic felt that wild super energy coursing throughhim, begging for release, he’d join Matt at the gym for a few lapsaround the pool or, better yet, bench press a couple thousandpounds until he started to draw a crowd. When asked, he blamed theenergy on steroids, which earned him more than a few laughs. Letpeople think what they would, Vic didn’t care. He wasn’t about totell them the truth.
Who’d believe him anyway?
As he climbed out of bed, aches and pains from thenight before ambushed him—he felt sore all over, and the threebruises on his chest beat in time with his heart. A lingeringheadache clung to the base of his neck. In the dawn’s light, Victhought perhaps being bulletproof wasn’t all it was cracked up tobe. Why couldn’t he have drawn something more useful, like anadvanced healing power, or something? So the bullets would’ve hithim and his body would’ve regenerated itself, and he wouldn’t feellike a decrepit old man the next day.
Gingerly, he stood and stretched, listening to hisvarious joints pop from disuse. Tiny flashes of discomfort shotthrough him at random. Though he had to be at work in an hour’stime, Vic wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and letthe heavy covers hide him away from the rest of the world.
Tempting as that was, Vic forced himself to stumbleto the bathroom. There he leaned beside the full-length mirror onthe wall and studied his naked body—the hairless chest now bruisedand tender, the thick band of muscle across his abdomen that hadn’tyet begun to turn to flab, the semi-erect cock that jutted like ared handle from his shaved crotch. There was another bruise acrosshis shoulders, probably from hitting the ground when he fell, andhis tailbone hurt as well. Next time he wouldn’t go down like asack of flour; he’d stand tall, take the hits. Maybe then hewouldn’t feel like shit the next day.
This isn’t happening again. Bulletproof ornot, the next time someone pulled a gun on his ass, he’d hit thedeck, no questions asked. He’d cover Matt with his body if he hadto. Why he hadn’t bother to do that last night…
He shook the thought away. Hell, he was lucky tohave a next day, and a tonight, and a tomorrow to lookforward to. Quickly he used the toilet, then splashed cold waterfrom the tap onto his face and scalp. The icy spray was bracing—ittook his breath away and woke him up at the same time. Snagging hisrobe from where it hung on the back of the door, he tugged it onand used the flannel sleeves to dry his face. Refreshed, he cinchedthe robe around his waist and followed the faint scent of freshcoffee into the kitchen, where Matt had left the coffeepot on forhim.
The front page of the newspaper hung on therefrigerator door. Vic glanced at it, disinterested, then realizedit was the morning paper and took a closer look. An image took upmost of the page, a composite of four different pictures that Vicrecognized as grainy shots from a security camera. With a dullsense of dread, he realized the camera must have come from the 7-11last night.
In the first frame, Vic saw the back of his head ashe faced off against the gunman and his friend. The quality of thepicture was horrible—he couldn’t make out any features on eitherguy, but there was no mistaking his own bald head and stout neck.The second frame showed a lick of flame from the gun, and Vic’sbody was