Chapter 3 Bash
Bash
Seven Years Ago
Knuckles rap against my barracks door, and stress locks me in place as I glance around the room. For the hundredth time, I worry Xeni will take one look and run the other direction. Despite his reassurances earlier, I’ve always been a little awkward, and I’m certainly not cool.
Not like him.
Comic books form stacks on my shelves, wrapped in protective sleeves.
They’re hard enough to come by in the cities, but out here there’s no chance of getting new ones, so I try to safeguard what I have.
A few pairs of my reading glasses sit beside them, and my lab coats hang from hooks near a table with my personal microscope.
My personal microscope.
There isn't a single person on this planet that can use that phrase and claim to be cool.
I’ve fought with the idea of stashing it all away, but a voice inside me tells me not to.
I don’t want to hide myself from Xeni. If I pretend to be someone else, it means he’ll never like the real me, and that thought fills me with an indescribable sadness.
Rejection would hurt, but living a lie would be worse.
He knocks again, and I smooth my hands down my jeans in a futile attempt to steady them before bracing myself. Xeni’s face lights up the moment the door opens, that easy, breathtaking smile spreading as he balances two plates of food in his hands.
“Thanks for picking up dinner,” I say, hurrying to usher him inside.
He tilts his head, catching the slight shake in my voice with that perceptive gaze of his. “Are you okay?”
I blow out another heavy breath, eyes dropping to stare at the plates. “I’m nervous,” I admit, shifting my weight between my feet.
“For little ol’ me?” he asks, his tone soft through the teasing.
“Yeah. You’re just so… cool? Put together? While I’m over here being…” I trail off, words failing me as self-doubt creeps in.
Xeni sets the plates on the table with a quiet clink, then returns to stand in front of me.
Long fingers wrap around my wrist, holding me there until I finally meet his eyes.
They’re sincere in a way that makes my chest tighten, and he slides his palm down to weave his hand with mine, thumb brushing soothing circles over my knuckles.
“You’re over here being authentically you, which is something I’ve always struggled with. The real you is the only one I want. Please believe that. No masks, not with me.”
“Does that work both ways? Can I have the real you?”
“As long as you promise you won’t run away,” he answers.
His throat bobs in a swallow that betrays the nerves he’s hiding, and it makes me wonder what lies behind those smiles and easy laughs he wears like armor.
“I promise,” I whisper, releasing his hand to wrap my arm around his neck, fingers threading into his hair. My heart thuds wildly as I guide him forward, but I don’t have to coax him. He comes willingly, closing the distance with a quiet exhale.
Our kiss is more urgent now that we’re behind the privacy of these walls, and months of tension break free. His arms circle my waist, hauling me flush against him, while his fingers slide under my shirt to brush the bare skin underneath.
Fingertips dance along my lower back in light, teasing trails before his hand snakes up my spine. Palms press flat against my back, pulling me impossibly closer as our mouths open wider. The kiss turns hungry, and Xeni forms a pleased hum that vibrates against my tongue as it meets his.
I shouldn’t be so greedy with him. I should give him time to warm up to this idea of us together, but it’s like I’m bound by some invisible rope that coils tighter around us with every breath. The pull is magnetic, and draws me in until there’s no space left for anything but his mouth on mine.
“Dinner’s going to get cold,” he murmurs against my lips, but his nails dig into my back with a sharp edge of desperation that only fuels my own.
“Yeah,” I agree on a ragged breath, barely able to focus as heat pools low in my belly, my cock starting to harden against him with a dull, throbbing ache. “And the movie is going to start without us.”
“It is,” he mumbles, lips trailing hot across my jawline in a path of open-mouthed kisses that make my knees weak.
My hips jut forward involuntarily to grind against him, and a deep chuckle rumbles from his chest as his fingers dance lower.
They explore the waistband of my jeans before taking a teasing dip underneath, brushing bare skin that’s never felt so alive.
His name leaves me in a quiet, pleading moan, and I tilt my chin high as he sucks a path along my neck.
Teeth graze just enough to spark fire under my skin, and the burn breaks my hands free from their frozen spot at his neck.
They coast down his back with growing boldness as muscles flex and pop under my palms.
Emboldened by his reaction, I trace along his hipbone. My fingers dip under fabric to the warmth of his skin, then move to his stomach, mapping the lean lines I’ve dreamed about for too long.
“Please?” he whispers, and it makes me shiver from head to toe. He pulls back, breathless with the same raw need coursing through me.
I tease the smooth skin underneath his navel. “You’re going to ruin me before we even get started,” I murmur.
Xeni has always had an unflappable air about him, like he’s unaffected by everything, but not right now. He whimpers as his eyes close, his head tilts upward with his lips sagging open, and as my fingers dip into his pants, he whines.
He fists my hair and guides my mouth back to his as we move towards the bed. My legs hit the edge of the mattress, and I drag him into my lap as I sit. We kiss like this for a few minutes, until we’re both on fire and can’t wait any longer. Xeni gasps as I spin us and drop him on his back.
He’s beautiful there. Hair sprawled underneath him, eyes heavy and hooded, and chest heaving with his lips bitten between his teeth. His knees part, and my gaze drops to the bulge hidden under his sweatpants. I cup him through the fabric, and he bucks against my hand.
Frantic for more, my fingers curl around his pants and underwear, and I tug to expose the creamy skin of his abdomen.
“Wait,” he rasps, and I freeze. “I’m not like you.” His eyes land on mine, unguarded and uncertain.
“I know you aren’t," I say softly, waiting on his permission to move. "That doesn’t matter. I’ll learn.”
A tiny smile slips onto his lips. “Yeah, I know you will.”
“Show me what you like," I say. "Let me study.”
That tiny smile spreads into one that digs into his cheeks, and he nods as he takes my wrist and guides it into his pants.
Long and slender, his cock is slick as I wrap my fingers around it. He moans quietly as he gives a few gentle rocks of his hips.
“Lower,” he murmurs as he guides my hand to the base where an opening seems to be the source of his self-lubrication. Another whispered moan rings through the room as I drag my fingertips through it.
“Push them inside me,” he whispers, spreading his knees further.
I sink two fingers into his heat as his stomach muscles tighten.
His cock retracts into his opening and tucks itself away into his body.
Slick coats my fingers as I press them into him, exploring his dips and curves and cataloguing his reactions.
His thighs tense and his hips flex, and he seems to lose control as his cock extends again.
“Fuck, Xeni,” I mutter as I pull back long enough to slide his pants off.
Eyes closed and spine arched, his head digs into the pillow, and I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as the pink flush on his cheeks. The mattress dips as I drop beside him and wrap my hand around his cock.
“Is this too fast?” he asks, even as he thrusts into the cage of my fingers. “Do you… should we slow down?”
“Do you want to slow down?” My voice is deeper than I’ve ever heard. Two years of pent-up attraction have made me nearly rabid, but if he tells me to stop, I’ll stop.
“Gods, no,” he says as he claws at my neck, pulling my mouth to his again. “Thought I’d try my hand at being a gentleman.”
“I’m pretty sure we’re a few steps past gentleman.”
Surrounded by that halo of white hair, he smiles up at me, then moans softly as I loosen my grip and give him a few slow strokes.
“Do you like to fuck or be fucked?” I ask.
“Both. Either. Yes, please,” he breathes eagerly.
“Yeah, same,” I say as I sit back and admire his body.
Xeni is graceful in a way that’s supernatural, with complete control over every muscle. His body is magnificent—narrow hips and defined thighs full of a quiet strength that I’m dying to worship. He whines when I release his cock, but his eyes flare as I slide down his legs to kneel between them.
There’s a sense of comfort between us that spurs me on. A boldness I rarely possess keeps our gazes locked as I lower my head and seal my lips around him.
I love the way he loses control.
Fingers white-knuckled in the sheets, he flexes his hips and thrusts into my mouth. The noises he makes are exquisite, and they grow louder as I take him to the root. His cock lodges in my throat, and it steals my breath as I let it rest there.
“Bash,” he whimpers as his hips jerk, stilted like he’s trying to hold back. “Bash, I’m… fuck, I’m… I’m sensitive. It doesn’t take a lot for me to… to…” He moans again as his hips snap up.
Tears spring into my eyes as my gag reflex kicks in, but I only suck harder. The base of his cock pulses against my lips, and he releases a wailing shout as he comes. I keep him there as he writhes and shudders, enjoying the slow slide of his release down my throat.
The last of his orgasm throbs against my tongue, but he never softens. My chin is coated in slick and spit as I pull off him, and his face is a deep rose pink as I wipe my mouth.
He throws his arm over his eyes, and my brows furrow as I climb his body.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“For what?” I ask, confused at the way he tries to hide, and worried I’ve done something wrong.