Page 26 of Something Human

Rus had turned to lie on his back. He looked at Adares warily. “What is the obvious thing? No—don’t tell me. But … yes. Do it.”

Adares put out his right hand and traced his middle finger over the convoluted spiral that covered most of Rus’s belly. He brushed over the coarse fuzz of blond hair, felt Rus’s abdominal muscles tighten.

“That … that’s obvious?”

“So obvious.”

“Ah.”

He continued to follow the pattern, slowly, delving a little under the upper edge of Rus’s kilt. Rus shifted slightly on the bed, tense again, but he did not push Adares’s hand away. Adares reached the end of the line he had been following and picked another one that travelled up over Rus’s chest and down the hard, smooth muscles of one arm. Rus reached up with the other hand to loosen his hair. It spilled over the pillow beside him like a sheaf of wheat. Adares traced lightly over his collarbone and back down his chest to his stomach. Rus made a small, appreciative noise.

“You like that? I could do it another way, too.”

“How? Show me.”

Adares bent down and followed the spiral—more or less—with his tongue.

“Ah! What? No! Adares! You can’t do that!”

“No?” Adares pushed himself up to look Rus in the eye, unsure whether that had been a genuine protest or not.

Rus was flushed, his hand hovering over the place where Adares’s mouth had just been. “Did I say no? I didn’t mean no. I just—I never imagined anyone doing such a thing, or that it would feel … ” His eyes widened eloquently.

“What did you imagine?”

“With you?”

“With anyone, but … yeah, with me.”

“Well … you are naked, in my imagining.”

“Not a problem.”

Adares unfastened and discarded his belt, pulled his tunic casually off, and dropped it onto the floor. He was wearing nothing under it. His cock bobbed a little as if half-drunk. Rus reached up and pulled him down onto himself, skin to skin, haphazard and glorious.

“What do you want me to do now?” Adares asked, settling himself more comfortably.

“You can—do that obscene dog thing again, if you want.”

“Dog thing?”

“Licking.”

“Oh. Only if I want?”

Rus groaned under him, a noise of unmistakable desire. “Do it, Phemian.”

Adares slid down his body, laughing. He tried licking a nipple, and that earned him an amazing reaction: Rus twisting away, tipping Adares over onto his side, and grappling him to himself at the same time, breathless with astonished laughter. Adares stroked him all down one side until he relaxed, and then they lay for a while wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing long, exploratory kisses. Rus’s hands drifted raptly up and down Adares’s body, as if he was intent on learning its contours.

But now desire was building into urgency for both of them. Adares rolled Rus over onto his back without breaking the kiss, and in a few efficient motions unpinned his kilt and stripped off his loincloth. He sat back, straddling Rus’s thighs, and for a moment just looked at him, exposed and aroused, eyes bright, lips swollen with kissing, the blue spiral around his dick stretched out. Next time, Adares found himself thinking, he wanted to watch that happen.

Next time. It was foolish to think about that now. This was what they had, and he owed it to Rus to make the most of it.

“You are not waiting for me to tell you again what to do?” Rus’s voice was rough, the Luth half of his accent heavily to the fore. He shifted his hips a little, impatiently. The bandage around his thigh brushed against Adares’s leg, reminding Adares that he’d put Rus on his back for a reason; he didn’t want him putting weight on his injured leg.

“No, I’ve got this.” He grinned.

He shifted forward, bringing their bodies together at the crucial point, and wrapped his hand around both cocks. Rus let out a shuddering gasp—he seemed to have a whole array of different, delightful reactions—and gripped Adares’s thighs, jerking up against him. Then he was pulling Adares down and pushing himself up off the bed, even as they thrust against each other, so he could bring their lips together again.