Till the storm of pleasure dies: From the bedpost and the rocks Death’s enticing echo mocks...
This is based on characters from Mary Renault's The Charioteer. They belong to her and I make no profit from them. This is PG17 at least... Maybe PG25. ;-) An abundance of "ketchup".
It was Ralph's voice; Laurie was sure of it, that helpless moan. He must find him, but the sand of Dunkirk beach slid under him as he tried to crawl, dragging his shattered leg. Something caught him, trapped him. He kicked to get free.
"Spud..."
He thrashed. He had to go faster, to reach Ralph somehow. "Wait. I'm coming."
A hand gripped his shoulder. "Easy, Spud. I'm here."
His eyes opened wide and he gasped. He'd managed to tangle himself into the blankets. A sliver of light came from the fireplace in the drawing-room. Ralph was on an elbow, bent over him. His heart thudded like a gun battery. He blinked, took a deep breath, and put a hand on Ralph's chest.
"Just a dream," he said. "Sorry."
Ralph loosened the snarl of blankets knotted around Laurie's legs and pulled him closer. "You hadn't had one of those for a while."
But Laurie knew why and knew Ralph must as well. The wardrobe empty of Ralph's things except the dinner jacket and his few pieces of mufti which he wouldn't need on the destroyer that would leave sometime today. Was it today? Laurie reached for the table and groped for his watch. He squinted at the face of the timepiece. Two o'clock. He'd barely slept an hour. A car swished through the drizzle outside, leaving in its wake a faint question of where it was going. In the blackout, even London had little night traffic.
"It's the middle of the night, love." Ralph pulled Laurie back into his arms. His mouth came down hungrily onto Laurie's.
"You need to get some sleep," Laurie said even as he felt Ralph's penis lengthen against his thigh. Muzzy headed, he wrapped his arms around Ralph and nipped at his throat. "I shouldn't keep you awake."
"Do you hear me complain?" Ralph laughed softly. He moved Laurie's hand to where he wanted it and rocked into it. A rough tongue flicked Laurie's cheek. "Does that feel like I'm complaining?"
"Oh." Laurie nodded gravely. "It feels like you'll complain if we don't do something about it." He devoured Ralph's mouth. Their bare skin pressed together and Laurie bucked into Ralph's hard flesh.
It wasn't enough. "Ralph..." He rolled, arms tight, bringing Ralph on top of him.
Ralph moved to his knees, pulled Laurie's legs onto his shoulders. "All right?" he asked in a growl as he carefully settled Laurie's bad leg.
Laurie just pulled his legs tighter. Ralph pushed into him and Laurie's head sank into his pillow. Sheets twisted under him. He grunted, meeting Ralph's thrust. As Laurie rubbed the tip of his penis against Ralph's stomach muscles with one hand, Ralph made a soft, urgent sound in his throat. Laurie's body felt weak. The rush of surf pounded in his ears. He was covered with sweat... his... Ralph's... He jerked himself off, semen spurting across Ralph's skin. A groan escaped as he turned his head into the pillow, gasping for breath.
Ralph drove into him and gripped hard on his hips, fingers digging. It was long, exquisite moments until Ralph threw back his head and came with a low shout. He pulled slowly out. With a sigh, he stretched out on the crumpled blankets and laughed softly to himself, throwing an arm across his eyes. "You were saying about complaints?"
Laurie leaned into Ralph along his right side, alive, warm, breathing, and fumbled to find Ralph's hand. It was relaxed between them and defenceless. He stroked the truncated palm with his thumb.
"How long?" he asked, hesitantly, knowing he shouldn't.
In the flickering, dim light from the drawing room, he saw Ralph glance at him then look at the ceiling. Ralph shook his head. "I don't know. Iceland isn't so far from Liverpool but we'll be at sea most of the time." He glanced at Laurie again. "I didn't say that, you know. Nor..." His mouth formed a grim line. "Nor mention how many merchant ships we're losing out there to the damned German wolf packs. If this radio thing we're doing works on ships too..." He sighed. "God knows how long."
Laurie put his forehead against the point of Ralph's shoulder and swallowed.
"In the desk," Ralph said, "there's a file of papers, my will, power of attorney, other things." He gave a brief laugh. "That bloody contract that I signed for you."
"The contract doesn't matter. But," his throat felt like sandpaper, "how will I know... if you're ill."
"You're on the list to be notified." Ralph's smile was tight and forced. "It will be all right, Spud. You mustn't worry."
"Write me. I won't... you know..."
Ralph kissed his temple softly. "Hush. I know. It's all right."
"Yes, it's all right now." Firelight shone on the blond head beside him. Laurie closed his eyes and listened as Ralph's breathing slowed. A deep breath. Another. They were together. But when would they be again? If they would be again...
It was Ralph's voice; Laurie was sure of it, that helpless moan. He must find him, but the sand of Dunkirk beach slid under him as he tried to crawl, dragging his shattered leg. Something caught him, trapped him. He kicked to get free.
"Spud..."
He thrashed. He had to go faster, to reach Ralph somehow. "Wait. I'm coming."
A hand gripped his shoulder. "Easy, Spud. I'm here."
His eyes opened wide and he gasped. He'd managed to tangle himself into the blankets. A sliver of light came from the fireplace in the drawing-room. Ralph was on an elbow, bent over him. His heart thudded like a gun battery. He blinked, took a deep breath, and put a hand on Ralph's chest.
"Just a dream," he said. "Sorry."
Ralph loosened the snarl of blankets knotted around Laurie's legs and pulled him closer. "You hadn't had one of those for a while."
But Laurie knew why and knew Ralph must as well. The wardrobe empty of Ralph's things except the dinner jacket and his few pieces of mufti which he wouldn't need on the destroyer that would leave sometime today. Was it today? Laurie reached for the table and groped for his watch. He squinted at the face of the timepiece. Two o'clock. He'd barely slept an hour. A car swished through the drizzle outside, leaving in its wake a faint question of where it was going. In the blackout, even London had little night traffic.
"It's the middle of the night, love." Ralph pulled Laurie back into his arms. His mouth came down hungrily onto Laurie's.
"You need to get some sleep," Laurie said even as he felt Ralph's penis lengthen against his thigh. Muzzy headed, he wrapped his arms around Ralph and nipped at his throat. "I shouldn't keep you awake."
"Do you hear me complain?" Ralph laughed softly. He moved Laurie's hand to where he wanted it and rocked into it. A rough tongue flicked Laurie's cheek. "Does that feel like I'm complaining?"
"Oh." Laurie nodded gravely. "It feels like you'll complain if we don't do something about it." He devoured Ralph's mouth. Their bare skin pressed together and Laurie bucked into Ralph's hard flesh.
It wasn't enough. "Ralph..." He rolled, arms tight, bringing Ralph on top of him.
Ralph moved to his knees, pulled Laurie's legs onto his shoulders. "All right?" he asked in a growl as he carefully settled Laurie's bad leg.
Laurie just pulled his legs tighter. Ralph pushed into him and Laurie's head sank into his pillow. Sheets twisted under him. He grunted, meeting Ralph's thrust. As Laurie rubbed the tip of his penis against Ralph's stomach muscles with one hand, Ralph made a soft, urgent sound in his throat. Laurie's body felt weak. The rush of surf pounded in his ears. He was covered with sweat... his... Ralph's... He jerked himself off, semen spurting across Ralph's skin. A groan escaped as he turned his head into the pillow, gasping for breath.
Ralph drove into him and gripped hard on his hips, fingers digging. It was long, exquisite moments until Ralph threw back his head and came with a low shout. He pulled slowly out. With a sigh, he stretched out on the crumpled blankets and laughed softly to himself, throwing an arm across his eyes. "You were saying about complaints?"
Laurie leaned into Ralph along his right side, alive, warm, breathing, and fumbled to find Ralph's hand. It was relaxed between them and defenceless. He stroked the truncated palm with his thumb.
"How long?" he asked, hesitantly, knowing he shouldn't.
In the flickering, dim light from the drawing room, he saw Ralph glance at him then look at the ceiling. Ralph shook his head. "I don't know. Iceland isn't so far from Liverpool but we'll be at sea most of the time." He glanced at Laurie again. "I didn't say that, you know. Nor..." His mouth formed a grim line. "Nor mention how many merchant ships we're losing out there to the damned German wolf packs. If this radio thing we're doing works on ships too..." He sighed. "God knows how long."
Laurie put his forehead against the point of Ralph's shoulder and swallowed.
"In the desk," Ralph said, "there's a file of papers, my will, power of attorney, other things." He gave a brief laugh. "That bloody contract that I signed for you."
"The contract doesn't matter. But," his throat felt like sandpaper, "how will I know... if you're ill."
"You're on the list to be notified." Ralph's smile was tight and forced. "It will be all right, Spud. You mustn't worry."
"Write me. I won't... you know..."
Ralph kissed his temple softly. "Hush. I know. It's all right."
"Yes, it's all right now." Firelight shone on the blond head beside him. Laurie closed his eyes and listened as Ralph's breathing slowed. A deep breath. Another. They were together. But when would they be again? If they would be again...