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Joe hated poison gas.
The idea of weaponizing the very air was appalling, and the means by which a person’s lungs might be turned against them seemed to become more efficient and more horrific with every passing year. From a personal standpoint, he hated the way gas lingered, the way it made his head spin and his chest burn for so long after the other effects had passed. As much as it hurt, a headshot was at least a quick death and a quick revival; waking up after being gassed felt like drowning in reverse.
“Yusuf?”
And that voice was like a light above the water, a bright beacon that guided him as surely in death as it did in life.
“Yusuf. Destati.”
“Shut up!” another voice snapped, rough and discordant after the sweet music.
“ Sono qui,” Joe said, before the rough voice could speak again. “ I’m here. Wherever here is...”
Shaking his head to clear it, Joe started the unpleasant task of hauling himself upright. His senses were just catching up to him as Nicky answered, still speaking his own language, “Armored car. They used gas on us.”
One of the hulking black shapes looming over them lashed out and struck Nicky’s side. That same grating voice snapped again, “I told you to shut up!”
“I need to be sure he is alright,” Nicky replied, so patient and so calm that no one but Joe would ever see the rage simmering just beneath his skin.
“Aw, that’s sweet,” the hulking guard drawled. “What is he, your boyfriend?”
Amusement rippled through the other guards, and Joe nearly gagged. Boyfriend. A child’s word. A pathetic attempt to compress something great and vast so it could fit a child’s understanding. Joe had half a mind to tell this wretched infant just how very little he knew, but Nicky beat him to it.
“I pity you.” Nicky spoke quietly, and the men around them immediately fell silent to listen. “How empty your heart must be to witness such love and see only weakness. This man is my strength. He is my purpose and my salvation. His love has guided every step I have taken for more than nine-hundred years.”
Joe blinked the last of the fog out of his eyes and looked at Nicky. Angels delivering decrees from God would appear less radiant, less righteous, and Joe was grateful beyond measure that his beloved was here with him, whatever came next.
“I spent my life in darkness until he filled my days with sunshine,” Nicky went on, his voice low and fierce. “I knew only anger until he offered me peace, and I felt nothing until his touch taught me the meaning of pleasure. You look on my love, my care, my fear for him, and you mock me. You think this is weakness, but this...”
Nicky looked at Joe, then. His bright eyes were pale in the harsh lights of the van, ringed in red and shining with unshed tears, and Joe was sure the same tears gathered in his own eyes.
This might be it, Joe thought. These fragile moments might be their last together in this life. When the van reached its destination, they might be ripped away from each other, trapped in separate nightmares until God released them from suffering. Joe had spent a millenia searching for words that could carry even a fragment of what was in his heart, but Nicky spoke it all in one, simple breath.
“This is life.”
Joe could have answered with a declaration of his own, but there was no need to waste the time. Nicky knew.
“Ya amar,” he said softly, and he leaned in to kiss Nicky with all the passion of a thousand years and all the hope for a thousand more.
The moment lasted just long enough for Joe to forget where they were, to become lost in the familiar feeling of Nicky’s perfect lips, the lingering taste of cassoulet, the promise that they made to each other with every look and every touch and every second of their lives. Then the guards wrenched them apart, and it was over.
With a quick glance between them, Joe knew they were in agreement about what they must do.
It could not be over. Not yet.