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[personal profile] maculategiraffe

"Drew," said Kyle in the guards’ barracks, when the other two guards who were sleeping there-- Gavin and Jeff-- had started to undress. Kyle wasn’t entirely happy about going off duty, but the talk he’d had in Emily’s office with Emily, Deborah, and Selena about the night’s sleeping arrangements had left him feeling tentatively optimistic. Selena, a tall woman with large blue eyes and hair so short and light as to give the impression of baldness, had assured him she’d have things under control in the night. In any case, he was exhausted, and looking forward to lying down in his own room.

Drew answered, "Sir?"

Kyle cleared his throat. "You're-- uh-- welcome to sleep in my room tonight."

"Thank you, sir," said Drew, with a hint of a smile, but with no other indication that he found this exchange as weird as Kyle did. Gavin and Jeff exchanged glances.

"We've got a pre-existing thing," Kyle told them. "And I cleared it with Emily. This isn't something I do to assert my authority, or anything."

Jeff grinned, a little; Gavin just nodded.

"Well, see you guys in the morning," said Kyle, and retreated into Jack's-- his-- little bedroom off the barracks, followed by Drew, who closed the door carefully behind them.

The room was small and fairly spare, containing only a double bed covered with a brown blanket and a nightstand with a lamp on it, but it was more space than Kyle had been expecting to himself as a non-stud under Emily’s protection, and Drew seemed outright delighted.

"This bed is fucking huge," he said, in awestruck tones, sitting down on it and bouncing a little. "Is this how big Rita's bed was?"

Kyle laughed. "Her bed was way bigger than this. You're just impressed because it's not bunk beds."

"Yeah, I've led a sheltered life," said Drew, standing up again to begin stripping off his uniform. "Closest I ever got to being a stud was when one of my mother's friends tried to feel me up at a party when I was seventeen."

"That’s sort of surprising," said Kyle, pulling off the shirt of his own uniform. "It's not like you're not gorgeous."

"Mmm, sweet talk," said Drew, hopping back onto the bed, naked now. "Hurry up, slowpoke. I mean, sir."

"Please don't call me that when we're alone," said Kyle, amused, as he hung up both his uniform and Drew's on a nail that had been driven into the wall next to the door. "You're in a good mood."

"Damn right I am," said Drew. "This is the life, huh? Sleeping in our own private room, off on the right foot with our protectrix-- especially you, she obviously adores you-- and all set to turn this fucking hellhole around. Did you see the looks on their faces when Emily stood up for her little speech at dinner?"

"Yeah, you know you’re in trouble when a woman says 'it has come to my attention,'" said Kyle, still not coming any closer to the bed. Drew sobered, watching him, and Kyle finally approached and joined him; Drew put out his arms and pulled Kyle in for a kiss so long and passionate that Kyle was gasping for breath when it ended.

"You know," said Drew in his ear, "Emily didn't say anything about me not using my superior size and strength to make you do my bidding."

"Don't," Kyle whispered, unnerved, and Drew pulled back.

"I’m sorry," he said. “You know I’m just kidding.”

“I know.” Kyle took his hand. “It’s just-- jokes like that don’t seem so funny, here.”

“Yeah.” Drew slid his arm back around Kyle, more slowly this time, so that Kyle felt sheltered rather than snatched. “You’re right. That was in poor taste. I guess I’m just-- but you know I’d never do anything you didn’t want, Kyle.”

“I know,” said Kyle again, and put his head down on Drew’s shoulder. “I don’t mean to be oversensitive. This place, though. Everyone’s so miserable.”

“Yeah,” said Drew again, rubbing Kyle’s back. “Plus I bet you miss Rita’s house.”

“You don’t?” Kyle asked, and Drew chuckled.

“I would have missed you,” he said. “It’s different for you, though. It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt my feelings. That you miss her.”

“You’re so nice,” said Kyle, feeling drowsiness creep into his eyelids as his head rested on Drew’s broad shoulder. “Why are you so nice to me?”

“I love you,” said Drew, as if pointing out something as obvious and mundane as I’m taller than you. “If you don’t want to-- do anything, tonight, it’s okay. If you’d rather just sleep. I’d-- it would be nice, though, if I could sleep here too. If you don’t mind.”

“I want you here,” said Kyle. “And I want to-- do stuff. I think. As long as you don’t hurt me.”

“Kyle,” Drew protested.

Kyle lifted his head and kissed Drew again, and, slowly, they lay down.

It was different, being kissed by a man, someone who wasn’t your protectrix, who wasn’t assessing your performance, or trying to coax you into siring a child. (Though if Rita had known all along that Kyle wasn’t likely to give her a daughter, her kisses and affection hadn’t been so functional in retrospect.) Sex with Rita was amazing, but it was also a job, and though she allowed him and even encouraged him in some liberties with her body, it was still a woman's body, the temple of Gaia, that he as a man had a divine mandate to remain humble before, lest he incur punishment or destruction. When Rita kissed him, she was being gracious, kind, condescending. Drew wasn’t being gracious. His kisses had a tremulous quality, a flavor of not being able to believe his luck. It was a little intoxicating.

As Kyle kissed back, and slid his hands down Drew’s back to touch his ass, he could feel Drew’s erection against him, but it was hard to feel too nervous when Drew was actually trembling with eagerness, whimpering in what sounded like pain but couldn't be anything but pure lust for Kyle. There was something unspeakably sexy about that, something that-- combined with the darkness, and the privacy of their own room-- made Kyle feel giddy and daring. He wrapped his hand around Drew’s cock, fastening his mouth to Drew’s neck at the same time, and Drew made a noise that sounded like a sob.

“Oh,” he whispered. “Please.

Kyle detached his mouth and whispered in Drew’s velvety-hot ear, “Please what?”

“Don’t stop.” The words could have been an order, but the tone made them an entreaty. “Touch me, Kyle.”

Kyle let his hand slide up and down Drew’s penis inside its silky sheath of foreskin. “Like that?”

Drew breathed heavily, and Kyle wondered if he was going to come from this-- that would certainly make things simpler-- but after a while, Drew started kissing his way down Kyle’s body, and Kyle had to let go. He put his hands on Drew’s back instead, making vague caressing motions, until Drew’s avid mouth reached Kyle’s penis and took it into its complicated, hot, wet universe of tight lips and active tongue. The first time Drew had done this for him, back at Rita’s house-- a couple of nights ago, a million years ago-- Kyle had felt a pang of disloyalty for noticing how much better Drew was at this than Rita, and another pang of embarrassment at how inadequate his own attempt must have been for Drew. Now he decided pangs were a waste of time when something this fantastic was happening.

Drew’s fingers dug into Kyle’s hips and buttocks as he sucked, and Kyle closed his eyes, then opened them again, feeling dizzy. He bit the heel of his own hand to stifle his outcry when he came into Drew’s mouth, and when Drew kept sucking, swallowing in the same motion without missing a beat, he almost shoved his whole fist into his mouth. After a few moments, he had to push Drew’s head away from his groin with his other hand, which felt weak and clumsy; Drew pulled obligingly away, but then started kissing Kyle’s hip bones.

“Stop,” Kyle gasped, trying to find purchase on Drew’s sweat-slick shoulders with his own trembling hands, to pull him back up. Drew moved back up the bed and wrapped himself around Kyle like a grizzly bear.

“Thank you,” Kyle whispered, not sure how to politely broach the subject of what he should do for Drew in return.

“I love sucking your cock,” Drew whispered back. “I love your cock in my mouth. I love sucking it down when you come. I love how you taste.”

“Thank you,” said Kyle again. “What should I-- what do you want?”

“I want to make you hard again,” said Drew, “and then I want you to fuck me, Kyle, please, I want to feel your cock in my ass, I want to make you come that way, please--”

“You want me to--”


The possibility Drew was proposing had actually never occurred to Kyle; he’d assumed for some reason that Drew would want it the other way around, that it would be Kyle who’d have to accommodate the hard thickness now digging into his thigh. Drew didn’t even seem to be offering the reverse as a favor to Kyle; on the contrary, he seemed to be requesting it as a favor to himself.

Perversely, it made Kyle wonder if Drew was right, if being penetrated was better than penetrating. He’d liked fucking Rita, but being fucked, like being worshipped, might be a pleasant new experience.

On the other hand, he didn’t think either Zach or Sean had found it so-- or even Ellis, fervently as he’d begged.

“Kyle?” Drew put a hand on Kyle’s hair. “What’s wrong? Are you-- did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Kyle nuzzled forward and kissed the first part of Drew he encountered, the ridge of bone along the faintly stubbled jaw. “No, it’s not you. You’re great.” He hesitated; why not? “I love you.”

Drew laughed quietly, drawing his fingers through Kyle’s hair.

“No you don’t,” he said, with fond amusement, as if Kyle had claimed he could fly. “You just noticed I existed about two months ago. And you’ve had other things on your mind since then. But what’s wrong? I thought you were-- well-- into it.”

“I was,” said Kyle, feeling wrongfooted but not too flustered; Drew didn’t seem to mind what he’d said, even if he also didn’t believe it. “I just started thinking about-- Ellis, and Zach, and--”

“Oh.” Drew kept stroking Kyle’s hair. “Yeah, that’s a mood killer. Okay.” He leaned forward and kissed Kyle’s cheek, almost chastely. “Let’s sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

“I’ll get you off first,” said Kyle. “Let me just--”

“Forget it,” said Drew, and tapped the back of Kyle’s head with his fingers in a parody of a slap. “Not when you’re thinking about them. That might put you off me for good. And then I’d have to kill myself.”

“Tomorrow night,” Kyle whispered, guilty and relieved at once. “Okay? Tomorrow, I’ll-- fuck you. If you want.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” said Drew, with a smile in his voice.

Kyle hesitated a little, and then asked, also rather shyly, "Have you-- uh-- have you-- been with-- a lot of men? That way?"

Drew chuckled again.

"Some," he said. “But nobody I wanted as bad as I want you.”

“I can--”

“Shut up and go to sleep,” said Drew. “Sir.”

"Okay," said Kyle, and shut his eyes, and, quicker than he would have thought possible in a center for unprotected males and with a man’s erection still pressing against his leg, did go to sleep.


Me: I'm writing a sex scene, and I just realized, it's been FOREVER since I actually wrote a sex scene! I'm falling down on the job.
My sister: Heh, yeah, seriously.
Me: I can't even remember the last sex scene I wrote... was it the maidenhead ritual? And that was het!
My sister: See, and even when sex did happen in The Maiden, you kept fading to black.
Me: I know, it's awful! I guess I just got caught up in the story.
My sister (sternly): How dare you.
Me: I'm writing a gay sex scene now though.
My sister: Well, finally.
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