Lauriewould go through them for him, though it was a first and he hadvery little idea where to start.He’d seized Sasha by the armpits,pulled him back up.Yes, that was how he’d come to be down here:the moment Sasha had understood his intentions, he’d bolted uprightand tried to escape the bed.Laurie had stopped him, but only bymain force, a dirty tackle that had tipped Laurie out onto thecarpet.He’d scrambled to his knees, got between Sasha’s thighs,and stilled him with a passionate embrace of his waist.“No.Letme.”
“No.It’s dangerous, Laurie.I’m not sure I should even do itto you.”
Lauriewasn’t too sure, either.Like most of the boys in his year, he hadspent his single school-hour of sex education staring in desperateembarrassment at the scuffs on the classroom floor.
He said,in a valiant show of confidence, “It’s okay.I’ll pull back whenyou—” And that was no good, was it?If he couldn’t even say theword, he probably shouldn’t be doing it or trying to get someoneelse to.“When you come,” he finally blurted out, blushing hotly,looking hopelessly up at Sasha, who somehow seemed to find hisnonplussed ineptitude rather endearing than otherwise.Who wassmiling down at him even while he tried to detach Laurie’s grip.And when Laurie sat back, there was no doubt who had won thisround.Sasha’s cock lifted straight and clear.Laurie whispered,shivering at its explicit shape and detail, so close, so veryclose, “I’ve never done this before.”
“You chose a great place to start, didn’t you?A homeless rentboy.”
“Sasha, don’t.Tell me what to do.”
“Nn-nn.I should be stopping you, not…” He released an unsteadybreath, and Laurie saw his shaft lengthen, its tracery of blueveins pulsate a little more clearly.“Not giving you instructions.Oh, God.I want you, though.Just…”
His handbrushed across Laurie’s nape.Not a pressure—a silent assent, asignal that he should begin, uninstructed.Guided by whateverinstincts he had, Laurie closed his eyes.He loved the sight ofSasha, but it was too much, overwhelming, to look at him and dothis—to lean forward, parting his lips, the blind movement bringinghim straight into contact.He heard his own shattered moan withembarrassment and opened up, letting the head slide in over histongue, hooking one arm tight around Sasha’s thigh.God, what now?His mouth was full; he couldn’t take him any deeper withoutchoking.Then Sasha made a faint sound of need.Peripherally Lauriesaw that he took one hand from its caress of Laurie’s shoulder andused it to brace on the mattress.His touch on Laurie’s neck becamedamply urgent, his thigh muscles stiffening.
Oh,Sasha was struggling not to thrust up into him, not to drag himdown.Laurie understood and, with a sense of revelation, drew backand plunged down again, creating the movement Sasha was forbiddinghimself.Sasha gasped and writhed helplessly to meet him, makingLaurie choke as his cock hit the back of his throat, but hesnatched a breath and recovered.Breaking down Sasha’s good mannerswas a powerful aphrodisiac to him; his own cock was hardeningagain.Tears stinging his eyes, he kept up the back-and-forthmovement, bolder and stronger as he lost his fears of the act,until Sasha jolted as if electrocuted and gasped out, “Oh, no.Letme go now!”
Almosttoo late.And Laurie would have disobeyed him if he could, evenknowing the risks.Wanted, more than anything, to feel in histhroat the explosion that had happened on the skin of his stomachbefore—but Sasha’s desperate grip closed on his shoulders, shovinghim frantically back.“Laurie!”
Christ,he was starting to come—alone and untouched, taut shaft spilling.Laurie saw the lonely anguish on his face and on instinct put ahand to him, clasping him tight.“It’s okay,” he told him roughly,from a sore throat.He might not know much about much, but he hadat least this much experience—all his own lonely nights; he knewthis touch.Unfolding from the floor, he carefully tumbled themboth back into the bed, never letting go his grip on Sasha’s cock.And now Sasha could thrust as hard as he wanted.Lying over him,pumping him fast, Laurie cried out at the feel of him losingcontrol, his wild last movements, rhythm breaking down to rigidstillness as he came.
“Laurie, come here.”
Lauriebarely heard it.His blood was roaring in his ears, and Sasha’svoice was a ragged whisper.“What?”
“Come here,ves’tacha.Before youexplode.”
Softlaughter touching the voice.Emerging slowly from the universewhere the only thing that mattered was getting Sasha off, Lauriebecame aware of his own condition, which he had to admit was ahopeless one, and painful too, now that the mists were parting.Sasha struggled up onto one elbow, pushing Laurie down.He put onearm beneath Laurie’s head and cradled him, smiling, plantingworn-out kisses on his brow, on the corners of hismouth.
“Ves’tacha,” he repeated, and Laurie guessed this time he wasnot being called an outsider or foreigner.
Sashareached down, seized his straining, disregarded cock, and strokedLaurie to orgasm in a dozen slow, firm movements, holding him tightwhen the wave hit, stifling Laurie’s cries in hisembrace.
* **
Lauriesat huddled on the bed, the blanket—damp in places, but he couldn’tbring himself to care, or find its scent other than lovely,viscerally reassuring, like a caress in the dark—wrapped around hisshoulders.There wasn’t much to distinguish now between him andSasha, was there?Both clean and fed, stripped of the clothing thatdenoted their status and rank.What would be the difference to theworld if Sasha stayed here and Laurie went out to some streetcorner and curled up as he was now, a young male body in a blanket,just like the thousands of others that starred the London streets?Maybe on balance the planet would benefit, if Sasha were installedas the son of this great house with all its privileges.He wouldsurely use them better.His brightness, resourcefulness, ability tosurvive…
The painin Laurie’s chest, the edge of panic resting like a blade on hisheart, stemmed from his inability to extract from Sasha a promisethat they would meet again.Something had darkened between themsince they had woken for the second time.God knew they had sailedclose to the wind; it had been rising eight before the gatheringDecember light outside the attic window had called them from theirentwined, satiated sleep, the household coming to life around them.They had lain still, breathless, while Clara and Hannah chatteredtheir way down the corridor outside; then Sasha had slithered outof bed like a startled cat, and none of Laurie’s assurances thatthey would be okay, that nobody else would come up here, had slowedhim down as he padded to the bathroom, then returned and began toput on his clothes.
Thesight of that stirred Laurie from his thoughts.He’d had vagueplans for purloining the filthy garments and taking them down tothe laundry, but the night had got away from him.“Sasha, hangon.”
Sashaglanced up, dark eyes clouded and apprehensive.Beginning to lookhunted…
Shametouched Laurie.How many times had he asked him to stay, pressedhim to agree to their next meeting?“At least take some of mythings,” he said.“We’re about the same size.”
Sashapaused, doing up such buttons as remained on his jeans.He stoodfor a moment, naked from the waist up, silhouetted in the morninglight.Then he came and crouched before Laurie.He stretched hishands out and placed them in Laurie’s lap, palms up, the gestureone of pleading.“Listen,” he said very quietly.“I go back ontothe streets in one of your cashmere sweaters, your Savile Rowcoats, by ten o’clock tonight I’m mugged and stripped naked.I comeback here, spend nights here, every morning I…go back to theunderworld.I’d got used to it, Laurie.Begun to stop minding.Andjust one night with you here… Well, this morning I already mind abit again.Do you understand?”
Lauriedid.Instead of telling Sasha so, he broke away from him andscrambled out of the bed.“Not all my clothes are from soddingSavile Row,” he said harshly.He pulled open first a wardrobe, thenthe drawers of the pine dresser that stood beside it.Homely items,these—lumber-room furniture, in a house otherwise fitted up withpriceless antiques and bespoke modern masterpieces.
“Why are you living like a refugee, here in your ownhome?”
Impatiently he tugged from drawers and hangers some of hisolder things, jeans and sweaters he used for backstage work, athick fleece jacket.They were worn but clean and good and couldfeasibly have been bought from a charity shop.“Here,” he said,holding them out to Sasha.“If you put your parka on top, youshould be okay.I’m never going to see you again, am I?”
Sashadropped the dirty sweatshirt he had been about to pull on.He letit fall and walked up to Laurie, bare feet silent on bare boards.Laurie briefly wondered why he was only noticing now for the firsttime that he didn’t even have a carpet in here except for thethreadbare fireside rug where Sasha had held him and kissed him.Then he could only stare at Sasha in hopeless longing.How bloodylovely he would be if he ever lived long enough to lose hisstarvation thinness.He moved like a panther now.He’d surged inLaurie’s arms like the sea.
“I don’t know,” Sasha said, reaching up for him.“Don’t make memake any promises now, ves’tacha.I wish I couldexplain.”
* **
