By the time daylight came, Ben was as a wrung out rag on the bed, dazed, bleeding, bruised, but in a place in his head he’d been searching for his whole life—running wild, enduring beastings, excelling at selection, thriving on operations—and he’d found it here in a bed with a beautiful stranger he’d known for approximately three days.
He only roused when Nikolas came in with a tray of tea and a large stack of toast dripping in yellow butter.This tea was in a porcelain pot with matching cups, milk in a delicate jug.Ben tried to sit up but couldn’t on his first attempt.He rolled onto his belly and levered himself back up against the pillows.Nikolas put the tray down and slid into the warm space Ben had vacated.He poured them both some tea.
* * *
“What’s that word beginning with s?”
Nikolas raised his eyebrows.He’d been miles away, reliving the night.New-Ben was even odder than his Ben.“Shit?”
Ben gave him the look.Nikolas laughed.Both Bens in one Ben body.Life threw you unexpected moments of pleasure when you thought all pleasure was done for the day.
“No.The one that means weird.”
“Surreal?”
“Yep.That’s the one.I’m sitting here like this,” Ben clearly felt he didn’t need to point out the injuries, the bruises, the general state of his appearance, “in a bed with another man.A man I don’t know and drinking tea out of the Queen’s bloody china.Surreal.”
Nikolas frowned.“How did you know this was palace china?Did Philipa tell you I stole it?”
Ben’s mouth opened slightly, but he just shook his head and began to work on the toast.“This is really good.”
Nikolas flicked a small wodge of masticated bread off his arm.“It’s the only thing I know how to make.”
“You want?”Ben pushed the plate to him.
“No.Thank you.”
After swallowing and starting on a second slice, Ben challenged conversationally, “So, you gonna tell me?”
Nikolas was stretched out alongside him now, contemplating the tor rising above their heads.“Tell you what?”
“What you really are.Who you are.One thing’s for fucking sure: you haven’t always been a charity whatnot thingy.”
“I was a diplomat.I ran the Ministry of Industries and Minerals.”
“Bollocks and bullshit.”
“Eat your toast.”
Another few slices went the way of the first.“So, do I ever do that to you?”
Nikolas shuddered theatrically.“No, never.I can’t abide pain.I prefer…flowers.”
“Uh-huh.So how’d you get that then?That was a bullet.More than one.”Ben dug into Nikolas’s thigh scar with a buttery finger, which made Nikolas laugh and turn over sharply onto his belly.That only revealed all his other scars.They got poked at and buttered too.“So?”
“Flower arranging is a very dangerous occupation.”
Ben pushed the tray to one side and with an audible hiss of pain sat astride Nikolas’s thighs, just below his hard, moulded backside.He laid a hand there, brushing the tanned skin with his thumb.“Can I…explore?”
Nikolas turned his head quizzically, staring back up at Ben.“You saw it all last night.”
“Not like this.In the light.”
The winter dawn had just arrived in the room, shafts of light illuminating the bed from the glass ceiling.Ben didn’t wait for permission.He spread his fingers over the cheeks and eased them apart, brushing with his thumbs then using them to explore further, deeper.Nikolas bent up at the waist, his head hung low, groaning.It had been a very long night, and he was fairly sure he was now running completely on empty.Ben lifted up.“Turn over.”Nikolas did.Ben settled comfortably back onto Nikolas’s legs and contemplated everything he saw.
Nikolas smirked.Not empty at all.Ben’s breathing hitched at the sight of Nikolas’s reviving cock, and he trailed his finger lightly across the tip, held its rigid length as it swelled and filled, tapped it lightly from side to side as it swayed independent now, erect.
Ben scrunched his face for a moment and then slapped Nikolas’s cock hard.He laughed as Nikolas rose outraged and complaining.Ben leant forward and mouthed into a kiss, “I’ve done that before.I remembered.”
