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| − | + | Excerpt from ''Peripatetica'', by M. K. Sebastien, Engr. ret. | |
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| − | I’ve slept with Mike in all manner of places over the years: a cramped corner of an engine room, a blanket under a sky full of stars, a garish Rim-side bordello, a plain monastic cell. Yet nowhere was I more uncomfortable than here in a Core-side bedroom with everything the Core had to offer… everything but freedom, mine or his. Thanks to my disastrous misstep a month ago and the Chempliance still lingering in his system, I hadn’t dared do more than take Mike’s hand or stroke his back in passing. It was far less than what I wanted, but no more than what Mike could give. Sharing a bed without being able to touch him would be excruciating and as we readied to retire, I | + | I’ve slept with Mike in all manner of places over the years: a cramped corner of an engine room, a blanket under a sky full of stars, a garish Rim-side bordello, a plain monastic cell. Yet nowhere was I more uncomfortable than here in a Core-side bedroom with everything the Core had to offer… everything but freedom, mine or his. Thanks to my disastrous misstep a month ago and the Chempliance still lingering in his system, I hadn’t dared do more than take Mike’s hand or stroke his back in passing. It was far less than what I wanted, but no more than what Mike could give. Sharing a bed without being able to touch him would be excruciating and as we readied to retire, I fully considered sleeping on the floor.<br> |
I heard him moving around behind me, kicking off his shoes, peeling off his shirt, and I kept my back to him, knowing I’d be tempted by what I saw. I unbuttoned the collar of my tunic and got as far as pulling it over my head before the damned thing stuck on my shoulders. It was silk and lace and the nicest thing I owned, and the hell if I was going to tear it getting it off me, but I was well and truly jammed—hands above my head, with my arms trapped in the circumference of the bodice. Stuck.<br> | I heard him moving around behind me, kicking off his shoes, peeling off his shirt, and I kept my back to him, knowing I’d be tempted by what I saw. I unbuttoned the collar of my tunic and got as far as pulling it over my head before the damned thing stuck on my shoulders. It was silk and lace and the nicest thing I owned, and the hell if I was going to tear it getting it off me, but I was well and truly jammed—hands above my head, with my arms trapped in the circumference of the bodice. Stuck.<br> | ||
“Hold still,” was all the warning I had before I felt Mike’s hands on me. They were warm and smooth and I ached for more of him. I bit my lip and stayed silent, and tried to ignore the path his hands took. “Cross your wrists.” <br> | “Hold still,” was all the warning I had before I felt Mike’s hands on me. They were warm and smooth and I ached for more of him. I bit my lip and stayed silent, and tried to ignore the path his hands took. “Cross your wrists.” <br> | ||
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''Get a grip. Nothing’s wrong. He’s fine.''<br> | ''Get a grip. Nothing’s wrong. He’s fine.''<br> | ||
God, my paranoia was making me morbid as hell, to say nothing of stupid. I paced, angry and miserable, bound by my unspoken promise, and cursed myself for a fool. And so it went, until my watch beeped the new hour and the click of the turning doorknob got my attention.<br> | God, my paranoia was making me morbid as hell, to say nothing of stupid. I paced, angry and miserable, bound by my unspoken promise, and cursed myself for a fool. And so it went, until my watch beeped the new hour and the click of the turning doorknob got my attention.<br> | ||
| − | Mike slipped inside, | + | Mike slipped inside, his bare feet silent on the carpet, and closed the door. Urgency rolled off him in waves and before I could say anything, he pulled me to the bed and was on me. He took me hard, as a dying man guzzled water in the desert or a starving man devoured a meal. Yet beneath his roughness and desperation was longing and gratitude, love and devotion, and I immediately understood and matched him measure for measure. I held him afterward when remorse overcame him, soothed him with my hands and rocked him til he quieted. He slept. Every sheet and pillow was awry and I drew what I could around us against the chill, and held him close. Just as Mike had done for me all those years ago at the Abbey, I did for him now and lay beside him to watch and wait and listened to him breathe.<br> |
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I must have fallen asleep. I woke to the familiar rhythm of his hand stroking my hair and blinking my eyes clear I saw his expression, apprehensive and vulnerable, and I knew I had to choose my next words with care.<br> | I must have fallen asleep. I woke to the familiar rhythm of his hand stroking my hair and blinking my eyes clear I saw his expression, apprehensive and vulnerable, and I knew I had to choose my next words with care.<br> | ||
| − | “Welcome back,” I said. He was warm and vital and naked under the sheets and God help me, I wanted more of him. But the | + | “Welcome back,” I said. He was warm and vital and naked under the sheets and God help me, I loved him and wanted more of him. But the Chempliant still had its hooks in him and caution stayed my hand. Instead I kissed his palm as he smoothed back my hair, and he responded with a caress, tracing my lips with his thumb. They were swollen and tender from the force of his ardor earlier and I winced. Mike instantly pulled back.<br> |
“You’re hurt.”<br> | “You’re hurt.”<br> | ||
“I’m fine.”<br> | “I’m fine.”<br> | ||
“You’re lying.”<br> | “You’re lying.”<br> | ||
| − | “I’m not.” I’m a lousy liar, even at the best of times, but I am pretty adept at shaving the truth. It’s simply the knack of addressing the matter obliquely. The truth: Was I sore? Yes, and I knew the bruises were already setting in. The shave: Did it matter? No, because I understood the man who made them and the reason why. I could see he wasn’t convinced, however, and my usual methods simply had no place here. Not now. Candor was what he needed, so that’s what I gave him. | + | “I’m not.” I’m a lousy liar, even at the best of times, but I am pretty adept at shaving the truth. It’s simply the knack of addressing the matter obliquely. The truth: Was I sore? Yes, and I knew the bruises were already setting in. The shave: Did it matter? No, because I understood the man who made them and the reason why. I could see he wasn’t convinced, however, and my usual methods simply had no place here. Not now. Candor was what he needed, so that’s what I gave him. “I’m fine. Come see for yourself if you don’t believe me.”<br> |
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And so he did, every inch of me. With his hands and his lips, his body and soul he checked me, gently and thoroughly, and we were both slicked with sweat and gasping when he was finally satisfied that I was, indeed, fine. To this day, I’m not entirely sure who dropped off first. I do know that we spent the balance of the night sleeping entwined, and when the light of day finally made it past our eyelids, the awkwardness between us was gone.<br> | And so he did, every inch of me. With his hands and his lips, his body and soul he checked me, gently and thoroughly, and we were both slicked with sweat and gasping when he was finally satisfied that I was, indeed, fine. To this day, I’m not entirely sure who dropped off first. I do know that we spent the balance of the night sleeping entwined, and when the light of day finally made it past our eyelids, the awkwardness between us was gone.<br> | ||
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<br><br><br> | <br><br><br> | ||
| − | '''Go back to [[Solace| ''Solace'']]''' | '''Go to | + | '''Go back to [[Solace| ''Solace'']]''' | '''Go to next Entry''' |
<br> | <br> | ||
| − | + | '''Go to''' [[Marina Kseniya Sebastien | '''Rina's Crew Page''']] | |
| − | |||
| − | '''Go to''' [[Marina Kseniya Sebastien | '''Rina's Crew Page''']] | ||
| − | |||
