Stanley held very still, wondering, his whole body at attention, as to where else Devon’s hands might go. Except that was a very wicked thought. Folks who weren’t married didn’t have relations, and especially not twofellows, whose mother neither of them had ever met, nor were likely to—all of a sudden, Stanley moved forward and flung his arms around Devon’s neck, pressing close to his chest, causing Devon’s hands to go all the way around his waist, sliding over bare skin.
“Can I touch you anywhere?” asked Devon, his breath warm on Stanley’s neck.
“I’m not a girl,” said Stanley, a little shy as his mind filled with all the places that Devon might touch him. “You don’t have to ask.”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Devon, and Stanley felt him smile. “No means no, and yes means yes, period.”
He seemed so adamant about it that Stanley smiled in return. He tipped his neck, though without actually saying yes, Devon wasn’t going to do anything else.
“Yes,” Stanley said. “Yes, a hundred times, but I don’t know what to do—”
Devon pulled back, his face flushed as he looked at Stanley with serious eyes. For a moment, he thought that Devon was going to stop altogether. His hands remained on Stanley’s waist, though, and he didn’t actually move away, so maybe it would be okay.
“Have you never—?” asked Devon. “Wait, are you a virgin?”
“I do know how to use my right hand,” said Stanley, a sudden blush warming his cheeks. “I’m not a virginthatway.”
“But you’ve never been with anybody, never been kissed.”
“I’ve been kissed by the girl at the dance hall when we shipped out,” said Stanley, somewhat defensively.
“Before the war?” asked Devon. His eyes lit up. Stanley could see that he wanted to get out his laptop and start taking notes about the dance hall, about the girl, about what it was like to be shipped to a foreign land to fight and die for one’s country. Stanley was tempted to start whistlingIt’s a Long, Long Way to Tipperary. Except that would distract Devon even more and focus his attention in a direction other than Stanley.
Devon shook his head, as if shaking off his thoughts about his paper and his degree. Then he smiled at Stanley, looking a little chagrined.
“You wanted to take notes just then, didn’t you,” said Stanley, teasing because he could.
“I did,” said Devon. “But it can wait till later.”
It could wait till forever because Stanley didn’t want to talk about the war anymore, although Devon, buried in a pile of paper and being excited about his notes, was terribly endearing. But not now, not just now.
Stanley leaned forward, sliding into Devon’s embrace, and tipped his neck sideways, the ID tag moving to a new place on his skin so the metal felt cool.
“Please kiss me,” Stanley said, the words coming out breathless. “Kiss me anywhere, touch me anywhere, I’m saying yes, do you hear?Yes.”
The yes turned into a soft sound that came up from the middle of Stanley’s chest as Devon kissed him along the length of his neck. The sudden prospect of hands upon him that were not his own made his heart race. In the middle of his head was a space of quiet expectation, a waiting place, as if he’d been preparing for this moment all of his life. That through all the intervening years since the moment of his birth, there’d been the knowledge that he’d be with Devon just like this.
Devon kissed Stanley on the neck again and then drew back to ease him onto the couch so he could kiss his mouth, then circle his waist with strong arms and cover him with the weight of his body. Surround him with warmth. Still him into quiet with the force of his attention, which was so very focused that Stanley almost felt on display. He would have been startled when Devon began undoing the fastenings on the borrowed blue jeans, except that Devon’s hand was so very gentle.
When Stanley opened his eyes, Devon’s eyes were also open, and soft, and his eyebrows were raised, as if he was watching Stanley and making sure of him.
“I missed you,” said Devon, softly. “I missed youeveryday you were gone. I looked for you, all over. I even calledles gendarmesin a panic, except they were worse than useless—”
“I’m here now,” said Stanley. It made him feel strong to be the one to comfort Devon, strong and powerful. He surged up to grab Devon to pull him down so that Devon’s body was all the way on top of Stanley. “Go on with what you were doing.”
Devon huffed out a laugh and buried his face in Stanley’s neck; his ink dark hair was silky on Stanley’s skin, and smelled sweet. Devon’s scent was warm and salty and filled Stanley with the sense that all was right with the world now, now that he was with Devon. Like this. On the couch with his t-shirt rucked up and Devon’s hand at the waistband of his borrowed underwear.
It was good that Devon’s hand was steady because it seemed to take a long time till it was all the way to where it ought to go, under the waistband and along the curve of Stanley’s belly. There, where it tangled briefly in Stanley’s pubic hair and circled around Stanley’s cock.
Stanley took a sharp breath because Devon’s hand was cool against the heat of his skin as he stroked and tugged, an urgency sharpening Devon’s breath in his ear. When Devon raised himself up, pushing Stanley’s underwear and blue jeans all the way down his legs. He eased his knee between Stanley’s thighs, pushing them apart, rendering him open and helpless and lush as blissful tingles swept through him.
Stanley closed his eyes and let the feelings take him where they would. They rose up from his belly, clenching and unclenching inside his chest as he succumbed to the loopy, heady sensation of being brought close to pleasure without touching himself. His cock was as stiff as a rod, his spine swirling, sending little shocks inside his head. Devon’s breath was in his ear, that hard knee between his legs, spread far enough so that Devon could stroke the length of his cock, pumping him, sliding up and down.
Suddenly Stanley’s head jerked back and his hips jumped, pushing his cock hard into Devon’s hand. Then Devon squeezed, just right, at the base, and Stanley came across the taunt skin of his belly.
With panting breaths, Devon settled next to Stanley. Stanley could feel Devon shoving into the space between Stanley and the back of the couch as he used Stanley’s t-shirt to wipe at the come. Stanley didn’t open his eyes right away to see any of this, but wallowed in the moment, at ease in a way that he’d not been since before the war. Before his Pa had gotten sick, before all of this had started, and the ill-realized dreams of the glory of war had not yet become the order of the day.
“How was that?” asked Devon, whispering in Stanley’s ear, pulling Stanley away from the darker thoughts that seemed to be waiting at the edge of everything, as they always were.
