“What do you mean?”
“Nice guys.Normal.”
“What would you expect them to be?”
“I was just saying.They weren’t…”
“Wearing pink and ironing?”
“I iron, Nikolas, or had you not noticed your T-shirts—my God, you actually hadn’t noticed!Everyonein the army irons!Jesus, didbrigadiershave servants in Russian Special Forces?”
Nikolas was deeply puzzled.“Yes—we called them soldiers?”He ignored Ben’s theatrical roll of his eyes and ventured more seriously, “You’ve realised by now, yes, that you can’t come with me on this course?”
Ben stopped spreading butter on his toast.He just froze, and then resumed scraping.Viciously.
“What do you mean?”
“Ben…”
“No.Theywon’t…”
“They will.Everyone does.A room full of gay men in crisis not recognise you?Come on…”
* * *
Ben knew Nikolas was right.He had one of those faces.People remembered him, and although he hadn’t been on the BBC that month, ANGEL documentaries were rerun on the Discovery Channel every other day.
Nikolas pinched the side of Ben’s shirt, rubbing it between his fingers.“Grey men, Ben.You weren’t really grey when you worked for me in the department.”
Ben stuffed a piece of toast in Nikolas’s mouth to shut him up, even though he knew very well Nikolas didn’t eat carbohydrates.Let him lick the butter, the bugger.
“I don’t care.I’m not letting you go alone.”
Nikolas, extricating himself from the toast, grumbled, “I’ve faced more threatening situations than a room full of gay men with issues, Benjamin.I think I’ll be strong enough to survive, don’t you?”
“I’m not worried aboutyoursurvival.”He came close and kissed into Nikolas’s neck, just under his ear where he loved the smell and feel of his warm skin.“I’m worried aboutmysurvival when you have all that temptation in front of you.”
Nikolas kissed him back, down his dark stubble and up into his long hair.“What about temptation…behind me?”
Ben hit him, and as always the physical sparked and ignited a bonfire of need.They’d left Devon at five a.m.without their usual wake-up fun, so felt they were owed, even though it was lunchtime, and it seemed almost indecent to tumble up the stairs, undressing, wrestling and kissing.They were both so hard it was a struggle to actually hold out until they were on the bed and naked.Ben took the warm, smooth erection in his hand.“Is this for me or for thinking about all those poor men in crisis, needing a strong hand?”
* * *
Nikolas arched intoBen’sstrong hand.The thought he could ever want anyone else when he had such beauty in front of him everyday was so far-fetched he rarely played this game—pretending to be interested in other men.He was a practised liar and convincing actor, but he wasn’tthatgood.He cupped his hand around Ben’s, making him grip tighter, but Ben struggled free, kissed him and spread himself enticingly on his belly.Nikolas paused for a minute, appreciating what he had, trickling a finger down the prominent spine, dipping it lower to elicit a hiss of need.He wound his fingers into Ben’s long hair, tugging it like reins.He loved the feel of the hair in his hands, loved how Ben looked, flowing when he walked.Twisting it now, he mounted him.Ben arched in pain as he always did, never seeming to be reconciled to what he always eventually craved.
Nikolas made it easy for him this time, easing gently until the stretch was done, the thrusting accepted, muscles relaxed and fear of pain gave way to expectation of pleasure.Then he was free to let rip, riding Ben, one hand wrapped in dark hair, the other roaming over Ben’s perfect face.
Nikolas felt himself getting close and bent to Ben’s ear.“Come with me …” He pulled out, flung Ben over onto his back, re-entered, and Ben seized his neck, dragging him down so they kissed as they came.They could feel the breath of the other in orgasm, sharing this as they shared their release, one deep inside, one jetting between them.Then they shared heartbeats coming down, the warmth and boneless entangling of limbs.Then lips found lips once more, lazy now, long kisses with mouths wide open, smiling into the taste of the other, languid, unhurried and not driven by the need to jettison their loads.
And then sleep, daylight, afternoon sounds drifting into the bedroom.Even this was shared, as Ben hovered in Nikolas’s dreams, the prize for some furious fight, and Nikolas into the stormy landscapes of Ben’s sleep terrors: saviour, companion, and responsibility.
* * *
After breakfast the next day, Ben said he was taking Radulf out.
Nikolas was tapping the phone on his palm, watching him.“I’m going to ask Jackson to come with me.”Ben froze, toying with the leather lead, watching that and not Nikolas.“You know it makes sense, Ben.”
“Jackson, not me.”He kept his back to Nikolas and left.
