Bash considered the question, which was something no one had ever asked him. “Yeah, I did, though in retrospect, it was pretty unconventional. Mom has high standards, and I had to do well both in school and at athletics. Plus, the guys taught me some skills I’m not sure Mom would have approved of like hot-wiring cars and picking locks. We also traveled a lot, which is how I met Ni—”
He paused, aware that he’d almost given away his employer’s name.
Sean’s brows rose. “Is something wrong?”
Strange how a habit can become as ingrained as a rule,Bash thought. He shook his head. “No. Sorry.” He was quiet for a moment. “I don’t talk about my job or my employer much.”At all. “But suffice to say, I knew from a young age what I was going to be. And here I am.”
There was curiosity in Sean’s gaze, and it was easy to see he was interested and wanted to ask questions. But to Bash’s surprise, Sean nodded and remained quiet, as though accepting Bash’s boundaries. Bash became aware of the continued sound of the storm outside. The building muted the sounds of the wind and sand, but they were still there, thrumming and moaning like some enormous creature trying to get inside.
Sean spoke again, as though wanting to drown out the howling wind by the sound of his voice. “I remember my father telling me stories about the haboob, about how in ancient times, entire cities were swallowed up and disappeared forever. About caravans found buried, with all the men and animals having the flesh flayed from their bones.”
“That must have been a real laugh at bedtime,” Bash said, although he was fascinated by this insight into what Sean thought of the country he’d left as a child.
“Well, those weren’t the stories for bedtime, more for Halloween or Mischief Night. He told me stories of the Bedouin as well, and the great battles in the Crusades. Despite his happiness with my mother, a part of him always missed Akkadia.” Sean sighed. “This country is odd for me, at once familiar and foreign. Part of my blood, part of who and what I am, but strange and frustrating in its differences from how I was raised.”
“Well, being gay and knowing you could be stoned to death for it can be a little off-putting,” Bash said.
“That is an understatement.” Sean shook his head. “But I still love it, and something about Akkadia feels right to me, in a way I can’t really explain.” He gave Bash a challenging look. “What about you, among all those manly men you grew up around? Did you ever feel in danger for your preferences?”
“I was too much in awe of the older ones to even think of them in that way,” Bash said. “With the younger guys, being gay is what put the ex in ‘ex-Special Forces’ for some of them. It’s usually among the ignorant, the bullies, and the ones with low self-esteem that you find any real animosity. If a man proves himself capable in the field, it tends to not matter too much who he prefers to bunk with in his free time.”
Sean seemed thoughtful. “Growing up as I did, mostly in England but with spending plenty of time across Europe, it was never much of an issue. My father was surprised, but Mother accepted me immediately. My uncle, her brother, is also gay, so it probably didn’t come as an enormous shock. Father was glad I’m gay. I guess he thought my sexuality would be a buffer, but it was obvious neither my grandfather nor Mansur had a clue. I considered telling them, but I thought better of it. My grandfather might have had me killed to avoid a stain on the House of Rasheed.”
“It must be difficult knowing your grandfather sees you only as a dynastic crutch.” Bash frowned. He didn’t like the thought of Sean being treated as though he mattered for nothing beyond his genes. “Though with the way unsavory influences have moved in on this part of the world, I suppose I can see him wanting some sort of stability so everything doesn’t break down entirely. Between the terrorists and the multinationals, it appears countries like Akkadia become more insular in reaction to the fear of losing their identity.”
“I think you’re right,” Sean said. “But if he weren’t so prosaic about the succession, it wouldn’t even be an issue. My father had an older brother, who had sons of his own, so he didn’t feel the pressure Faisal has brought to bear on me.”
“There isn’t anyone else?” Bash was too American to think in dynastic terms, and he considered most of it bullshit. Being born into a certain family didn’t make you any more capable of leadership than anyone else.
“There was,” Sean said. “But my uncle died, and all three of his sons with him, and my father passed soon afterward. Faisal’s own brothers were killed over the years in various wars, and so were their sons, leaving only daughters who can’t inherit. I suppose the House of Rasheed hasn’t been terribly lucky, when the last legitimate male survivor of the line is half English, not devout, and gay.”
“What about Mansur? I know he’s rumored to be Faisal’s son as well, but illegitimate. He seems like he’d be strong enough to take Faisal’s place.”
“He’s most assuredly Faisal’s son,” Sean said. “In temperament and blood. But Faisal already had the four wives permitted in Islam when he met Mansur’s mother. The laws are complicated when it comes to marriage, and they vary by sect. By the laws of Mansur’s mother’s tribe, who are Sh’ia, there isnikah mu’tah, a temporary marriage, which doesn’t count toward the normal number of wives. But Faisal and the majority of Akkadia are Sunni, who do not recognize that type of marriage. Which means Mansur is illegitimate for the purposes of inheritance. Which is unfortunate for him, his sons… and me.”
“As annoying and fucked up as my country can be, I’m glad I’m American, so at least the government can’t kill me for being gay. Or at least not anymore,” Bash replied. He sat silently listening to the continued howling of the wind, and then he glanced at his watch. “It’s well past dawn. I think you should try to get some sleep, if you can. We should be safe enough here for the day, and with any luck, the storm will be finished before dark. Then we can leave and make it to Turkey under cover of darkness. One good thing about the storm, they’ll have no idea where we are. Maybe they’ll even believe we’re dead.”
“I don’t know if I can sleep, but I suppose I could try.” Sean rose to his feet and stretched, and then he slanted a teasing look at Bash. “Do you mind helping me get this armor off? I don’t think I can get all the buckles and latches myself.”
Bash chuckled, but he stood as well. “Sure. I won’t even make any comments about princes who can’t undress themselves.”
“I thought it might be more fun this way,” Sean said, flashing an unrepentant grin.
“Well, I can’t argue with that,” Bash admitted, more than a little impressed that even amid their situation, Sean could find humor. He stood in front of Sean, and he quickly unfastened the buttons of Sean’s uniform jacket. “You want me to take your clothes off one way or another, don’t you?”
“I thought I’d made that pretty clear,” Sean said, leaning in to nuzzle Bash’s cheek briefly.
“Naughty,” Bash said, not that he really minded — well, other than the fact they couldn’t really do anything about it. He pushed the jacket off Sean’s shoulders, then unfastened the buckles at Sean’s waist and shoulders and eased the heavy armored vest off. He lowered it to the floor, then straightened.
They stood facing one another, their heights close enough that they were almost eye to eye. Bash noted that even sweaty and dusty, Sean was still the most attractive man he’d ever seen. He’d not had time to really look at Sean when they’d exchanged clothing in the cell, nor when they stolen the guard uniforms, but now, with Sean standing before him, clad in Bash’s own clinging black tank, he couldn’t resist the temptation.
While not as broad as Bash himself, Sean was well built, his arms defined with lean muscle. What Bash could see of his chest had a sprinkling of crisp, dark hair, and he couldn’t help but let his gaze roam lower. The guard’s pants fit Sean well, showing off his narrow hips and long legs. Bash wondered what Sean looked like beneath the concealing black fabric; from the sight he’d had when they’d put on the uniforms, he was certain the covered parts of Sean’s body were as sleek and elegant as the rest of him.
Sean cocked his hip, his mouth curving in a smirk. “Like what you see?”
Bash growled. “You know I do,” he said, reaching out to run his fingers down the front of Sean’s shirt. “But I’m not going to do anything about it. Not here.”
“To be honest, I’d rather wait until we’re somewhere where I won’t get sand in uncomfortable places,” Sean said. “Which I suppose means I’d better try to rest now.”
