Razorblade Encounters

By Joe Lawson

When he heard the request for back-up, he knew Riley'd be there.

The team in trouble wasn't far from the old Sunnydale High School, where Riley was hiding. Graham was pretty sure his former CO had managed to patch into the Initiative's frequency. He'd always been good with electronics, even if he hadn't had much use for that talent lately. Plus, the tactical advantage of knowing his opponents' whereabouts would've given him additional incentive to reactivate his skills. So Graham didn't doubt Riley would hear the call for help. And big boy scout that he was, he wouldn't be able to do the sensible thing and stay away while a couple of his former comrades were in danger not far from his position.

Graham had been on his way to the school to check on his friend and make sure he didn't run into any stray patrols. So far the Marine had managed to keep the search teams off Riley's back, but in Sunnydale it always paid to be extra careful. Things had a disturbing tendency to go bad in this town. Hearing the call and knowing Riley would be stupid enough to risk his neck, Graham changed his course, climbing a fire escape to get to the roof of the nearest building and approach the alley from above. He wasn't going to risk Riley's life. It was bad enough Forrest was missing, he wasn't going to lose the man he loved, too.

He arrived just in time to see the unconscious body of a commando crash into a wall and sag to the ground in an undignified heap. Then Riley was there, flashlight in hand and ready to do battle. Graham moved along with him, stealthily as a cat. He didn't need to look at his former team-mate; they'd fought side by side so often he knew his partner's moves almost better than his own. Riley would divert the tango, Graham would take it out.

The creature wore the face of a young man with pale skin, dark hair and the fashion sense of Dracula. A vampire, most likely. For some reason, most bloodsuckers had a tendency to wear black, though not all of them went so far as to add a long, billowy coat. Graham smirked inwardly. The coat was overkill. Given the fact that it was a warm, humid night, it looked more than slightly ridiculous. However, his amusement evaporated when the thing turned around, stared at Riley, then opened its mouth and said: "Riley Finn."

Graham froze. The vampire knew Riley's name. Had it been sent by Adam? Was this a trap? He moved even closer to the edge of the roof, ready to pounce.

Come on, sucker. Just one little step forward and you're history.

Riley, face a cool, professional mask, raised an eyebrow. "I know you?"

The creature's gaze was almost as frosty as its answer. "We have a friend in common."

Riley's eyes darkened. "Angel."

Angel? Angel? That was the infamous Angel? Graham had heard a lot about Buffy's former boyfriend, and only some of it from Riley. When Riley had told him the guy was a vampire, Graham had decided to make sure his friend wasn't in any danger from his girlfriend's fangy ex. He'd done a thorough background check on Angel, starting with his recent and less recent past, and he hadn't liked what he'd dug up.

Irish rake turned vampire. Scourge of Europe. Cursed with a soul. In love with the Slayer. Lost his soul due to a moment of perfect happiness. Gee, what could that have been, considering his relationship to the beautiful Slayer? Turned back into a homicidal maniac and terrorized Sunnydale. Tried to destroy the world. Got sent to Hell by his ex-girlfriend. Returned to Sunnydale, then left a couple of months later to open a PI business in L.A.

Graham's sources had described Angel as the epitome of the 'tall, dark stranger'. Good looking. Mysterious. Sexy. Guilt-ridden. Sexy. Tall. Sexy. Superb fighter. And, of course: sexy.

So far Graham wasn't impressed.

He'd expected someone taller. Or at least taller than Riley. Hearing about the vampire's beauty he'd also expected someone with a less prominent forehead. And what was it with the stupid coat?

He shook his head, deciding that people in Sunnydale must be blind and stupid. Seeing them both, there was absolutely no doubt who Graham would've chosen. On the other hand, maybe he wasn't the best person to judge. After all he would've taken Riley even if the other guy had been Apollo himself.

Looking at the way the two sized each other up, Graham decided to let Riley handle the situation. It was his girlfriend, he could use the opportunity to vent, and who made a better punching bag than a guy who was already dead? Riley could get rid of some frustration without feeling bad about it. Angel was behaving more like a jealous ex-boyfriend than a bloodthirsty lunatic, so either he still had his soul or Angelus was on downers. Either way Riley could kick his ass.

Graham relaxed a little, but he still remained ready to jump into the fray should Riley need him. The fight was fast, furious and dirty. The two opponents seemed quite evenly matched. Both seemed determined to beat the other into a bloody pulp, but neither managed to pin the other down.

The Marine on the cool tin roof watched critically, a little surprised that Riley still held back. Sure, Angel was fast and much stronger than the mortal, but his technique was sloppy and showy. He fought like somebody who had always relied on his superior strength and the fact that he was hard to kill. An excellent street-fighter, yes, but not combat trained. Riley could've caused much more damage than he did, but instead of going for quick and deadly, he treated the whole thing more like a barroom brawl than a serious confrontation.

Oh well. It was his fight.

---

The arrival of the requested back-up interrupted the two rivals. Angel turned and climbed up the side of the warehouse, leaving Riley on his knees in the alley. The vampire was about to cross over to the next building when he stopped and looked over his shoulder. His eyes searched the darkness until his gaze came to rest upon Graham, who was still perched at the edge of the roof like a bad-tempered gargoyle.

Angel stared at him, trying to look 'stoically surprised'. Graham didn't even blink. After a second the vampire seemed to realize the soldier wouldn't move or talk unless provoked, and he decided not to tempt fate. Graham watched him leave without batting an eyelid, then got up and grabbed his gear in one smooth movement, and followed Riley.

He wasn't surprised when his friend went straight to Buffy.

---

The Marine was leaning against a tall oak tree, waiting patiently for things to play out. No way was he going to let Riley go back to the school alone. No matter what happened between him, Buffy, and her ex, he'd be much too distracted to watch his own back tonight. So Graham would do it for him.

Angel was the first to leave the dorm again, coat billowing dramatically, face set in an unreadable alabaster mask.

Graham still wasn't impressed.

He waited until the vampire had noticed him, a little curious to whether he'd choose to come over or to ignore him. Angel hesitated for a moment, then added 'grimly determined' to 'unreadable' and crossed the lawn. He came to a stop in front of Graham, towering over him menacingly, trying to intimidate him with a dark-eyed glare.

The Marine, not so easily shaken, stared up at him with cool, gray eyes and waited for the vampire to open the conversation. It took Angel a few seconds to grasp that his patented glare wasn't working and he decided to cut the posturing.

"Who are you?" he growled low in his throat. "Why are you following me?"

Graham rewarded his initiative with a blink. "Who says I'm following you?"

Angel looked slightly confused, then moved even closer, sniffing not very discreetly. "You smell of him," he noted. "And you're a soldier like him. Why are you following him secretly?"

Steely eyes narrowed slightly. "To keep critters like you off his back."

The vampire sneered. "Great job, considering I beat the crap out of him not an hour ago."

Graham allowed a small smirk to escape. "That was no fight. That was a minor show of displeasure."

"You overestimate your friend," Angel said, but the look in his eyes didn't quite match his acerbic tone. If he hadn't known better, Graham would've almost thought the former Scourge of Europe was starting to like him. He shrugged it off as ridiculous.

"I know him," he answered calmly.

"Why are you following him in the shadows then, instead of walking by his side?"

And here he was getting closer again, all but pressing his cool body against Graham's. Maybe he could smell that the physical closeness made the Marine uncomfortable and tried to use it to his advantage, maybe it was just part of his usual scare tactics. In any case it pressed all of Graham's buttons and not in a good way. There was only one person who was allowed to get that close -- Riley Finn.

Graham reacted without thinking, instinct and experience telling him that showing weakness in front of a vampire was completely out of the question. Angel didn't even have time to realize his mistake. He was on his back, a knee pressing against his throat and a stake pricking the skin above his heart, before he could do so much as blink. Graham's piercing gaze nailed him to the floor just as effectively.

"Let's cut this short," the Marine said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Stay the fuck away from Riley Finn or I'll dust you and use your ashes as camo. Are we clear?"

Angel just stared at him, mouth open, eyes wide.

Graham pressed down harder. "Are we clear, 'Liam'?"

This time he got a reaction. The vampire visibly started at the use of his given name. "How...?" He stopped, blinked, then shook his head, new respect dawning in his eyes. "You really did your homework," he admitted. "How did you find out? And how much else do you know?"

Dammit, didn't the guy ever shut up and call it quits? "Anyone ever tell you you talk too much?"

Angel actually laughed at that, almost relaxing beneath Graham. "No, not really." He paused. "Anyone ever tell you you're beautiful when you're angry?"

Tell me the guy didn't just use a pick-up line with me that's older than he is himself. No, scratch that. Tell me the guy didn't just make a pass on me. What the hell is it with this town?! Why does every guy I meet here want a piece of my ass?

Disgusted with the whole situation Graham stood up, trying to ignore the way Angel watched him, admired the smooth play of muscles beneath his fatigues. "Go."

Angel slowly got to his feet, sobering. "You didn't answer my questions."

"I didn't stake you either. Consider yourself lucky."

The vampire swept his gaze over the Marine's body and smiled slightly. "I do. Next time we meet, I'll know your name, soldier."

"Don't fall over your coat when you make your dramatic exit."

"Don't worry," Angel smirked, before he turned and walked away. "I've mastered the art of stalking off into the night long before you were born. And we will meet again."

"Not if I can help it," Graham murmured, resuming his post.

He thought he heard Angel laugh quietly, but he wasn't sure and truth be told, he didn't much care one way or the other. Flirting notwithstanding, he knew the vampire had gotten the message. Angel might be one weird fucker of a vamp, but he wasn't stupid. He knew Graham had meant every word he'd said. He knew if he ever touched Riley again, he'd have not one, but two pissed off Marines at his throat.

Whether he heeded the warning or not was another question.

---

Graham reckoned Riley would be busy for a couple of hours, fully expecting him to do some serious 'making up' with Buffy. So he was surprised and a little worried when he saw his friend leaving the building not even five minutes later. His concern grew when he noticed the expression on Riley's face. He looked...shell-shocked was the word that came to mind.

Graham followed him across the campus, never leaving him out of his sight. It wasn't difficult. Riley wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings, not even when he left the campus and slowly made his way through an eerily quiet Sunnydale.

Seriously worried now and wishing with all his heart he could just walk up to Riley and ask him what had happened, find a way to help, Graham was a silent shadow behind his former CO. He didn't even slow down when he disposed of the solitary vampire fledgling that targeted Riley, killing it almost in passing then hurrying to catch up with his friend. They almost made it back to the school before Graham heard a vehicle approaching. One of the Initiative's specially modified military jeeps.

He cursed silently, noting that the tall blond didn't seem to be aware of the danger. For a moment Graham contemplated intercepting the patrol, diverting them, leading them away from Riley. But that would've meant he'd have to leave the other man alone, and he didn't dare do that, not with Riley so obviously out of it.

Torn between the need to save his friend and the fear that Riley would rather lash out at him than accept his help, he hesitated, but only for a second. One of the first things he'd learned was that in a crisis you had to think and act quickly. Hesitation was even more likely to kill you than a less than perfect decision.

So he clenched his jaws, adopted his most impenetrable expression, and hurried after Riley. He caught up with him and grabbed his arm, dragging him out of the light and into a narrow back alley.

Riley started and tried to pull away, but not very forcefully. "Gray? What the fuck...?"

Graham ground his teeth. They were still too close to the danger, there was no time for a fight. He tightened his hold. "Shut up, Ri."

Part of him expected to be decked for his brashness, but another part wasn't surprised when Riley just closed his mouth and fell in step with him. It was the way they'd always worked. Riley was in command, but he knew better than to argue when Graham got a certain tone in his voice. It wasn't so much a matter of who called the shots as a matter of who had the better instincts. And it was Graham who knew when it was time to fight and when it was time to flee. His quick and accurate assessment of a situation had saved their lives more than once.

Maybe it was only habit, but Riley didn't question him when Graham let go of his arm and set off in a fast, tireless trot. He just followed.

Graham took point and Riley brought up the rear, though they changed positions once Riley had realized where the danger came from and where they were headed. They didn't talk during their silent run through the maze of alleys and backyards, they didn't even look at each other. It wasn't necessary. For the first time in a while they were in tune with each other again. Graham could feel the connection between them, the bonds of friendship, loyalty and love that would tie him to this man until the day he died. The knowledge that Riley didn't feel the same hurt.

The odd cease-fire lasted until they had managed to elude the search party and had made it to the relative safety of the school. Then Riley ditched his 'professional mode' and indulged in some good old venting, whirling around and slamming Graham into the nearest wall.

Graham gasped when his back hit the scorched concrete. His barely healed ribs and muscles screamed at the maltreatment, reminding him harshly that his last unplanned encounter with a hard surface had ended with him in the infirmary. Of course, then it had been a moon-crazed werewolf using him as a punching-bag, not his best friend getting in his face. He bit down a moan of pain when Riley's large fists grabbed his shirt and pushed him again for emphasis, this time a bit to the right so that the edge of a doorframe dug into his shoulder-blade.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Riley hissed, white-hot fury blazing from his eyes. "Why?"

He had definitely shaken off the stupor, and the combination of rage, betrayal and pain directed at Graham made the Marine freeze in confused shock. He opened his mouth to ask what had happened, but Riley was still yelling, shaking him like a terrier with a rat, shoving him against the wall; the sheer force of his emotions stunning Graham into shocked stillness.

"How could you keep that from me?"

Graham finally raised a hand -- not to defend himself, but to touch Riley's face to try and calm the man down enough so he would listen to him. His voice was rough, partly from the pain and partly from worry. "Riley...please..."

Riley's grip didn't loosen, his voice rose to a deafening roar. "Why? Why didn't you tell me?"

Okay, if nice didn't work... Graham hadn't survived boot camp and Gunnery Sergeant O'Tool for nothing. "Tell you what?" he thundered back, proving to Riley that being taller didn't necessarily mean one had more lung-capacity. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Pained hazel eyes stared into his. "You didn't tell me that Forrest is dead," Riley said in a broken whisper.

For a moment his words didn't register. Graham's mind tried to lift its defenses, keep him safe behind a wall of denial, but as usual it wasn't quick enough, and the meaning of Riley's outburst hit him like a shot in the back.

Forrest was dead.

He felt his knees go weak, until Riley's hands were the only thing holding him upright.

Seeing his reaction, Riley finally realized the truth. "You didn't know."

All he could do was shake his head slowly. "No," he rasped, barely recognizing his own voice. "No."

Forrest was dead. Forrest, who had made them both laugh, who had taken care of them and cared for them. Who had loved Riley almost as much as Graham did, and who had still been Graham's friend. Who had tried to be more than just a friend, and had understood when Graham couldn't. Forrest was dead.

"Graham?" Riley asked, sounding worried now.

Graham cleared his throat, trying to speak around the grief constricting his throat, trying to tell Riley what he knew. "He was on patrol this afternoon," he choked out, blindly staring at Riley's chest in an attempt to ground himself. "He didn't come back. McNamara declared him MIA, but we hoped...I hoped..." God, it hurt. "What happened?"

Riley closed his eyes. "Buffy...Buffy told me there was a fight. Adam killed him."

"How?"

"I don't know." The anger was gone completely, only hurt and fatigue left. "I didn't ask. I couldn't. Not after..." He stopped, swaying a little, then leaned forward until his head rested against Graham's; still holding him. "I couldn't stay," he whispered, sounding so lost that Graham's heart broke all over again. "She's not...she can't...she doesn't..."

She's not one of us. She can't understand. And she doesn't want to.

Graham's arms came up on their own volition, wrapping around Riley and drawing him nearer. He felt the Iowan tremble against him, and pulled him closer until they were hopelessly intertwined. A long leg pushed between his thighs, parting them so Riley could mold himself against Graham's body.

The sensation was so achingly familiar it made Graham moan softly. He didn't dare open his eyes, knowing that if he did the tears would spill out. He hadn't cried since...he couldn't even remember. Soldiers didn't cry. Neither did boys who valued their life. So he didn't. He kept his eyes closed, burrowed his face against Riley's shirt, and let the large, strong hands soothe some of the hurt away.

---

He couldn't have said when exactly the nature of their embrace changed from a simple offer of comfort to something else. He just knew that after a while Riley's hands started to move, stroking down his body, slipping under his sweater, caressing his skin. He allowed it, arching into the touch without thinking.

A shiver ran through his frame as the familiar longing tore at him. God, he'd missed Riley. It felt so good to be close to him again, to breathe in his scent, hear the sound of his breathing, feel that strong, hot body against his. Riley's lips kissing along his throat couldn't erase the hole the message of Forrest's death had torn into his heart, but they made it seem less grievous.

Then Riley started to open his belt buckle and everything hit him again. Forrest was dead. And with him Graham's last connection to his former life was gone. Now all he had was Riley. And Riley didn't love him.

He should've stopped this long before. Thinking about it, he never should've slept with Riley in the first place. He should've run like hell when he noticed he was falling for his CO. Only he hadn't noticed. He hadn't realized how far he was gone until it was much too late to leave. When Riley had taken him the first time, Graham had already belonged to him, the physical joining nothing more than the last drop sealing the Marine's fate.

And now Forrest was dead, Riley was a fugitive, and Graham was playing a dangerous game doublecrossing the Initiative to keep his lover safe.

Damn it all to Hell. He was so tired of it.

He knew he should stop Riley's advances. The guy was in an emotionally vulnerable state and he'd regret this when he came back to his senses. He should lead Riley to his room, tuck him in, and leave. But he didn't want to. He'd been strong enough for both of them for too long. He'd let Riley use his body when his friend needed it and tried to pretend he didn't mind. He'd left Riley to Buffy and tried to be happy for him. He couldn't this time. Graham was too hurt, too alone, and too damn hungry. He wanted this one night.

So he growled low in his throat, grabbed Riley's head and pulled it up, then proceeded to kiss his former CO with all the pent-up passion that had been driving him nuts for weeks. Riley seemed a bit stunned for a second, not used to Graham being that bold, but then he answered in kind, his tongue meeting Graham's and inviting it to a fiery dance.

Graham was dimly aware of being maneuvered into one of the burnt-out rooms, then pushed against the surprisingly sturdy remains of a large writing desk. He moaned into Riley's mouth when he felt his lover's hands open his belt, then pull down his zipper, freeing his already half-hard cock from its confinement. Callused fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking it firmly. He jerked when Riley's thumb rubbed over his weeping head, teasing the sensitive slit, harvesting the oozing pre-cum. He groaned deeply. Every time Riley touched him it felt like he'd been dead and buried and was only now coming alive under his friend's caresses.

"Get your damn boots off," Riley growled into his ear.

He complied, swearing viciously when the laces didn't open as quickly as he wanted to. Then the boots and socks were off and Riley was pulling his pants down, noting the distinct lack of underwear and smiling that rare predatory smile he only smiled when he was about to fuck his subordinate into screaming ecstasy.

"I see you're still going commando," Riley purred, leaning in to playfully lick over the erect member.

Graham bucked helplessly, throwing his head back and spreading his legs so Riley could rub a finger over his opening. He gasped when he felt the first probing pushes against the twitching ring of muscle and finally scraped together enough brain-cells to retaliate. "And you're...still...talking too much," he rasped, his hands grabbing the edge of the table in a white-knuckled grip to keep from losing his balance and sliding to the ground.

Riley's chuckle sounded breathless. His lips closed around Graham's cock, causing the burly Marine to tremble and utter a low, needy sound that only served to excite his lover even more. Graham moved restlessly, driven almost crazy by the sensations of Riley sucking him while at the same time slipping a slick finger into his body. He knew Riley was taking his time to prepare him because it had been a while since they'd made love and part of him appreciated the consideration, but the major part of him just wanted to be drilled. Now.

Riley seemed to sense his impatience and share it, because the next thing Graham knew was that he was being pushed back onto the desk and invaded by the slick, hot thickness of a rather familiar cock. He supported himself on his elbows and lifted his hips to accommodate his lover, biting down a pained scream when Riley grabbed his hips and thrust into him hard, sheathing himself almost to the hilt with one powerful stroke.

"Dammit, Ri," he gritted out, panting. "How about some kinda warning?"

Riley stopped, worry piercing the haze of his desire. One large hand came to rest on Graham's muscular abdomen, rubbing it gently. "I'm sorry," he murmured, then stared down at the body of his friend laid out before him, naked except for the open shirt and his dog-tags, and his cock twitched in response. "God, you're beautiful," he breathed.

Graham was too busy admiring Riley to react to the praise, his bluish gray eyes drinking in the sight of the tall Marine fucking him slowly. He felt Riley's hands slide down to his thighs, spreading them wider, and was vaguely grateful for years of martial arts training that allowed him to bend as far as Riley wanted him to. His back and ribs hurt when he had to tense his muscles to balance himself while his friend was too busy stroking his cock and the insides of his thighs to support him, but he barely felt the pain.

Riley's cock slid in and out of his ass in long, excruciatingly slow strokes, making him writhe and moan and try to impale himself even further. His eyes were half-closed in pleasure, his whole body undulating gently in the rhythm of his lover's thrusts. He had no idea why Riley didn't pick up the pace, unaware that that his friend was completely mesmerized by the way he moved and sighed and fucked himself on the hard member buried in his body.

Then Riley moved, leaning forward to capture Graham's lips with his own. The Marine gasped when the change of angle pressed Riley's cock against his sensitive prostate, only Riley's weight keeping him from arching off the desk. The Iowan used the opportunity to slip his tongue past his lips and flick it teasingly over the roof of his mouth. This provoked another full-body arch, as well as a throaty moan that made Riley's hips jerk reflexively. Graham repeated the sound, delighting in the reaction it caused. Oh yes. He wanted more of that.

They began to move faster, powerful muscles straining, skin sliding over skin, their lips meeting with every thrust. Graham could feel the tension of the past weeks drain away, until all he knew was the rough surface of the desk beneath his bare body, the taste of Riley's kisses, and the thick cock pushing him past the point of simple pleasure into the realms of pure, unadulterated bliss.

He screamed when he came -- a dark, primal shout of satisfaction that echoed through the small room like a lion's roar. Riley shivered when he heard it, something in him answering to the imperious call, then he cried out himself when the clenching of Graham's muscles seemed to yank his load right out of his balls.

---

"Think we can make it to my room?" Riley mumbled into the crook of Graham's neck, too exhausted to so much as lift his head.

Graham bit his lip, his heart fighting with his head and losing. "I..." I want to stay with you. I want to protect you and take care of you and be protected and taken care of in return. I want to make love with you until we're too tired to remember our own names and then I want to fall asleep in your arms. I want to grow old with you. I want you to be the last thing I see when I die. I love you.

"I have to go."

Riley froze in his embrace, his calm breathing stopping for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was cold. "Where to? Back to the Initiative? Back to blindly following orders, fighting the good guys along with the bad, and being drugged to the gills?"

What Graham wanted to say was: "Back to protecting your ungrateful ass, you moron!" What came out of his mouth was: "Yes."

So much for his rhetoric skills.

Riley pushed himself up and away from Graham's supine figure, pulling out a little too quickly and glaring down at his friend. "Dammit, Gray! Can't you, just for a minute, stop being the perfect little soldier and think for yourself?"

So much for Riley finally starting to understand him.

He sat up slowly, feeling each bruise and fresh scar on his back, and shivering in the sudden cold. How come he could stand his ground against the former Scourge of Europe without even breaking a sweat, yet had never been able to defend himself against Riley? Oh, yeah. He was in love with the guy. Obviously, 'in love' equaled 'struck dumb' with him.

He slid off the desk and had to use all of his considerable will-power to keep from crumpling to the ground when his legs threatened to give out. Note to self: being fucked across a half-burnt desk hurt like a bitch once the fun part was over.

Riley saw him stumble and took a step towards him, the anger in his clear, hazel eyes replaced by worry. Graham's brain clubbed his muscles into submission, so he could at least get dressed without help. He knew he had to keep his distance from Riley. He couldn't allow his friend to ask him to stay, because if he did, Graham wouldn't be able to deny him. It was beyond pitiful, but he'd do just about anything Riley asked of him, no matter the consequences.

So when Riley opened his mouth, a pleading look in his eyes, Graham straightened quickly, his own eyes cold and shuttered. "Don't," he said, his voice hard. "Don't say it. I gotta go."

Riley looked like he wanted to object, but then his pride kicked in, just like Graham knew it would, and his jaw snapped shut with an audible 'click'. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and watched the Marine tie his boots, grab his jacket, and leave.

He didn't call him back.

And Graham didn't look back.

The End