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were beginning to flail noticeably.
    Even Oren understood. "He says we have to get ready, right? It looks like it'll be starting soon."
    "Yes. Tonight you'll see the full power of the desert."
    "I've seen enough desert to last the rest of my life. It doesn't need to keep proving itself to me," Oren grumbled before standing up to help clean up the teacups.
    "The desert does whatever it wants," Kirk responded with a shrug. "We can only hold on and hope for the best."
----
    T he noise from the wind was unearthly. It was as if another dimension had opened up and the souls of the damned were screeching around their tent, looking for victims to devour. Kirk shivered and huddled deeper under the blanket. He had been in storms before, but he didn't think the sound was something he could ever get used to.
    He looked over at Oren, who was staring at the tent's ceiling and moving his lips silently. "Are you praying?" Kirk called over the wind.
    Oren turned and smiled grimly. "Is there really much else left to do when the world ends?"
    Kirk shrugged, conceding the point. "I suppose not."
    "Do you want to know something funny?" Oren yelled out, a faint smile on his lips.
    "Sure."
    "This is one of my company's tents! I travel all the way around the world, almost die a hundred times, and yet here I am, right back in my comfort zone."
    "Does your company make good tents?"
    "The best, according to our advertisements."
    Kirk snorted and reached out to place a hand comfortingly on Oren's shoulder. "It'll be over soon enough. We should be safe where we are nestled. The nomads have experienced many storms and know how to prepare. And I'm sure your tent is wonderful."
    Oren looked at Kirk's hand for a second, then looked back up at Kirk. Their eyes met and a spark of electricity shot between them. Neither said another word, letting the emptiness hang between them and fill with all the desire that had been building. It was undeniable that something very strong was pulling them together, no matter how Kirk had tried to fight it.
    I shouldn’t do this. He is my employer and I barely know him , the rational part of his brain screamed out, trying to make itself heard over the wind and his libido. I need a clear head to do my job and keep him safe.
    I know enough about him to find him the most infuriating and attractive man I’ve ever met. I can’t pull back and live with regret, the romantic part of his brain yelled even louder . I’ve almost died once already, can I really say no to a night of happiness?
    Kirk gave in to his heart. He ran the hand that was resting on Oren's shoulder up slowly. He traced a path along Oren's neck, across his jaw, and then traced gentle circles around his cheek. The touches were unhurried and deliberate as Kirk enjoyed exploring every inch of skin.
    In response, Oren moved closer, wrapping his arm around Kirk's waist to draw them together. They were now only inches apart, and the heat radiating between them was as powerful as the sun had been during the day.
    Kirk leaned in, brushing his lips softly against Oren's. They relented easily, opening and allowing him to deepen the kiss. Connecting with Oren was perfection, and he felt himself falling into a well he had no hope of ever escaping. Every inch of his skin hummed with happiness and adoration for the man he was holding.
    "Wait," he said at last, pulling back with great difficulty. They were so close now that they could hear each other over the noise without any shouting.
    Oren looked at him with glazed eyes and mouth hanging open in surprise. "What?"
    "My name isn't Kirk. It's Khaled. I just thought you should know who I really am."
    "Does Khaled want to kiss me, too?"
    Kirk kissed Oren again in response, letting himself get lost in the other man's lips. He felt Oren sigh against him, and they both melted together as the roar of the wind continued outside.

Chapter 9
    I n the morning , Oren awoke with Kirk's arm splayed protectively over him. Usually after