fugue - Oblique Publications

JANE BARON ˆˆˆˆˆ
FUGUE
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It might not have been so disturbing
except that Blake was in a moderately precarious
position to start with. The smell of freshly
washed Kerr, the warmth plastered indiscriminately
along his flank, the brush of fine, light hair
on his cheek, all were evoking conditioned responses
from him. And he’d been aching since
last night—in the aftermath of that debacle he
hadn’t had the heart to masturbate.
Nor had he been able to sleep. It had
taken a long time to wind down from the experience,
and, at last, turning to what had been his
usual panacea before Kerr, he had buried himself
in work. Now, he fought the stimulation, and
fought the temptation to relax, to let Kerr’s
warmth soak in and ease tired muscles.
Kerr would have to be wearing his black
lounging outfit, of course. No cold, unyielding
leather tonight, but raw silk which caught
Blake’s finger fast whenever he tried to push an
encroaching hand away. It tempted Blake to
stroke the length of that enticing body, to move
the whisper-thin fabric over the bareness of Kerr
underneath. In spite of himself he wondered how
it would feel to tease each nipple erect through
the fragile barrier, rubbing the material in a
circle around it, then stepping back to admire the
effect. Kerr would hold still for that.
And, he added mentally to the companion
who was leaning more and more heavily on
him every minute, you must have dressed yourself,
because you aren’t wearing a thing under it,
are you? The swell clearly visible between
Kerr’s legs attested to that. Bemused, he daydreamt
about stroking Kerr firm and then—
—then what? He’d have them on the
flight deck couch next. And that was sheer
insanity, unless he really did want to be found
out. Resolutely, he took Kerr’s hand, which was
at this moment slyly investigating the clasp of
his trousers, curled it firmly into a ball, and held
it that way. Simultaneously, he shifted Kerr’s
weight away from him to rest on the back of the
flight chair.
He’d expected Kerr to be grieved, possibly
even to look piteous and accusatory. But
such manipulation was far beyond Kerr’s scope.
Direct action—what Avon had once told Blake
he was good at—was the only way he knew. And
Blake had forgotten how strong the man was,
forgotten for an instant that beneath that enticing
silk outfit were the sinews of a lean and hungry
predator. Quite suddenly he found himself
pinned against Zen, balance compromised,
mouth covered in a devouring kiss.
Exasperation—and embarrassment, for
Zen seemed to count as a spectator here—put the
necessary steel in his will to resort to sheer
strength. A surge and jerk later he had Kerr’s
arms securely pinioned from behind, with
Kerr’s body safely turned away from him. At
which point that body simply went completely
and utterly limp in a gambit that had worked very
well once before…
It was the last straw. Blake let go so as
not to dislocate both Kerr’s shoulders, hauled
Kerr back up almost before his knees could hit
the ground, and had him bent forward over the
flight deck couch before either of them knew
what was happening. It wasn’t until his free hand
was raised, flattened, ready to make stinging
contact with silk-encased buttocks, that he came
back to himself.
What was he doing? Kerr wasn’t a child.
But Blake realized that that was exactly how the
last twenty minutes had played out, as if he were
with a recalcitrant two-year-old, a little hellion
bent on mischief and utterly intractable. The
impulse to get in a couple of good whacks now,
and save the regrets for later, was strong.
Stronger, however, was the prickling uneasiness
which rose at the vision of doing such a thing,
and the sudden rush of calm which swept over
him like a cool breeze.
He’d been the one in the wrong here, to
expect things of Kerr which were beyond Kerr’s
ken. He’d accepted the joy and contentment this
liaison had brought him; now he had to accept
the occasional frustration. If he meant to love
Kerr he would have to be the one to adapt.
Gentling the grip on that silk-clad shoulder,
he lifted the unresisting body to an upright
ˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆ PÆAN TO PRIAPUS ˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆ
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