Chapter Six #3
“Does it?” Sasha kissed him gently on the mouth, as if to
redeem the word. “Not to me. Not from you.”
“And I’ve never done it before.”
“Well, I’ve had it done to me twice. Once I was stoned, and the
second time was business. So you don’t have much competition, and
even if you did, I want you so much—” he stopped as Laurie
struggled up to kiss him, then to roll him onto his back, covering
Sasha with his warm weight—“so much I could come from just thinking
about you. I want you to do it. It’s okay. I’ll show you
how.”
Laurie
felt Sasha’s arms close around his neck. Laurie seized him in his
turn, and they briefly fought, a gentle, impassioned struggle. Cold
scents of crushed grass rose up, and a deeper tang of earth and
their own warming bodies. When Sasha twisted in his embrace and
rolled to lie on his side, Laurie sat up and stripped off his long
winter coat. “Here.”
“What? Don’t be stupid; it’ll get filthy.”
“It’ll wash.” Laurie spread the coat and guided Sasha to
stretch out on it. “Don’t you understand?” he asked unsteadily from
an aching throat. “I’d pull the bloody sky down for you if I
could.”
“The old star-eaten blanket?”
“Yes. Yes, love.”
“All right. Take mine off too. I want to feel you when
you…”
“Oh, don’t. You’ll be cold.”
“You’ll keep me warm. In fact…” Before Laurie could stop him,
Sasha had struggled out of the parka and his sweater too.
Underneath it was one of Laurie’s own T-shirts, the remains of his
ambassadorial disguise, left behind in their hurry to escape the
house. Laurie watched, entranced, as he stripped this too over his
head and sat there, skinny and lovely, warm brown skin catching
sunset light through the trees.
Gooseflesh started to rise. “God, come here.” Laurie gasped
and pushed him down onto the coat. For a moment all he could think
about was fending off the cold from the exposed flesh, but Sasha
writhed under him, taut backside pushing up. Their hands met under
his belly, and they fumbled for the buttons of his jeans. Sasha
moaned in assent as Laurie got hold of the waistband and hauled
them down. “Sash, are you…are you sure?”
“Gonna kill you and bury your body out here in these woods if
you don’t. Right. Pull my coat back a second. In the pocket:
condoms and some stuff to make it easier.”
Reaching
for the parka, Laurie pulled out the packet and the tube. Yes, this
was the part he had glossed over in his dreams. He was ashamed that
he had left it to Sasha.
“Will it hurt you?”
“Not if you just get me ready a bit first. Listen, ves’tacha. I
had my tests. A doctor comes out to the camp. I’m clean—God knows
how—but the rubbers are there if you want them.”
“I feel so bloody ignorant.”
“Don’t. You’re not. It’s just a first time.” He put a hand back
blindly and seized Laurie’s for a moment. “Here. The tube. Open it
up and put some on you, then some on your fingers, and…” But here
even streetwise Sasha ran out of words and instructions. He lay
flat and buried his face in the crook of one arm. “Please, Laurie.
Just do it.”
And, after all, it was
easy. Laurie lay for a while, listening to the
calls of roosting blackbirds—the cry of a first twilight owl,
haunting and wild across the heath. Wind in the trees, although
down here among their roots, the air was still. He could hear
Sasha’s ragged breathing and his own. The rest of the world had
stopped for him. It ended where the woodland melted into dusk, a
few yards away all around them. Everything he needed was here. He
uncapped the lubricant tube, clumsily covering the fingers of his
right hand in the sticky gel. Sasha twitched as he slid the touch
into the cleft of his backside, and Laurie reached up his free
hand. “Sasha.”
“Why am I frightened now? Been screwed over a car boot by a
six-foot skinhead; why—”
“Ssh.” Laurie pushed an arm over Sasha’s shoulder, down across
his chest. Sasha inhaled softly as if surprised at the embrace,
then seized it and hung on. He opened his legs, drew one knee up a
little, and in the space his movement opened up, Laurie suddenly
found the tense little circle of his entrance. It felt too small to
admit anything. Holding his breath, he rubbed the tip of his middle
finger across it, circled it, pressing gently in, until Sasha
shuddered in his arms and the tiny muscle ring gaped. Fighting
disbelief, Laurie kept up the pressure, closing his eyes in Sasha’s
hair as he slipped his finger inside. All the way. The boundary
broached, Sasha did not resist him, and he groaned in what sounded
like relief when the penetration increased. Lost in wonder at the
feel of it, the strangeness—that tight, guarding circle, then
beyond it, the heat, the silky space rippled through with muscle
contractions—Laurie pushed at him, and then when Sasha bucked
against his hand and made a frantic sound of encouragement, did it
harder, bringing his index finger into the hole. A firm movement
and that went in, his anus fluttering wide to admit the inward
thrust—then closing, clenching hard, tearing a cry out of both of
them. Terrified that he had hurt him, Laurie tried to
withdraw.
But the
convulsion ceased, and Sasha was suddenly warm, melted satin
beneath him, around his hand. He let go his bruising clasp on
Laurie’s arm. “That’s it,” he whispered. “I’m ready, ves’tacha. I
can take you. Fuck me now.”
Laurie shuddered, but his cock had come up so hard inside his
jeans that he could hardly breathe, and there was no denying that
or Sasha’s slow, sensuous shift onto his hands and knees. Laurie
knelt behind him, easing his fingers out of Sasha’s backside.
Awkwardly, gel-slicked grip slipping, he undid buttons and zip. Did
not dare touch himself. He was close, hot electrical flashes
running down his spine, so ready he knew his own grasp would melt
him to orgasm. His shaft sprung straight and hard for the target,
and he wondered with his last coherent thought what the fuck was
meant to be unnatural about this. Glancing down, he saw in the silvery, uncertain
light how the head came to engagement, how Sasha eased back against
it, a movement of welcome, as if Laurie had been lost and was at
last coming home. He thrust, burying himself deep in Sasha’s flesh.
Now the rippling contractions that had squeezed his fingers ran up
and down his cock, the muscle ring clenching and releasing with his
movements, the pressure at once almost painful and unbearably
sweet.
Sasha,
braced on his arms, swung his head around to look at him,
whispered, “Laurie, make me come now,” and seized the hand that
Laurie had clenched on his hip bone to steady him. “Hold me. Make
it happen now.” He dragged the hand down, and Laurie got the idea,
reached under his belly and seized his cock. A few more
thrusts—half a dozen jerks of the rigid shaft—and he was there;
they both were. Laurie threw his head back. Through a red haze, he
saw stars blazing out in the treetops, caught in their stripped
twigs. Sasha blazed out like a star in his grasp—climaxed in
openmouthed silence, bursting in his hand. Laurie sobbed rawly,
thrusting and spending inside him, until Sasha went limp underneath
him, dropping them both down flat and gasping onto the rumpled
coat.
When he
could see again, Sasha was leaning over him, tenderly picking
leaves out of his hair. Laurie lay flat on his back. His breath
would not settle. Every time he found a pace for it, he would
remember some detail of what they had just done and break into
laughter or fractured gasps.
“Are you all right, ves’tacha?”
Laurie
nodded. He wanted to lie here forever, seeing nothing but Sasha’s
glowing eyes and the treetops in the distance, filled now with
stars. Something occurred to him, something he had been meaning to
ask. “What does that mean?”
“Ves’tacha?” A flush stole into Sasha’s face, just visible to
Laurie in the near dark. “It means…it means ‘beloved.’ So you need
not have been worried about freaking me out by what you told Mama
Luna a while ago.”
“Because you’ve been calling me that—almost since we
met.”
“Yes.” Sasha swallowed audibly. “It didn’t take me long to
know.”
Laurie
reached up for him. He pulled Sasha down to lie beside him, then
beneath him, covering his face and hair with kisses, reaching for
the coat to shield him as best he could from the cold. “Can we stay
here forever?” he whispered. “I know what you meant now, when you
said it made it worse for you—to have known something different and
to have to go back.”
“Yes. Because our worlds were bad. My world is better now, and
I’ll help you change yours too, beloved. I swear.”
Time
passed. Belatedly Laurie noticed that, in spite of his best
efforts, Sasha was growing chilly in his arms, and he sat up,
stripping off his own sweater. “Here. Put that straight on, while
it’s still warm from me. And keep it, all right? You won’t get
beaten up for it here.”
Sasha
nodded, shuddering in pleasure at the touch of the flesh-warmed
cashmere. “No. It’s a good place. Safe. Can you come back with me
for a while? We’ll get warmed up, and Friday’s a festival night.
Mama Luna will have some good food on the go for everyone.” He
helped Laurie up, and they both stood unsteadily, helping one
another rearrange clothing and button up coats. “Come on.” He put
an arm around Laurie’s waist. “Look. All the way over there, across
the heath. I can see the fires.”