When the black cab pulled away, Kit and Denny waved from the front doorstep like a couple. Despite Denny’s offer of the spare room, Henry preferred his own bed. Once the car lights vanished, they went inside. Denny shut the door and leaned back against it. Midnight drew close again. He felt shattered.
Standing beside the pile of paint pots, Kit admired his passport, running his fingers over the gold-embossed royal coat of arms on its cover. He opened it to his photo identity page, which showed Henry had, not unwisely, taken a few years off Kit’s real age.
Christopher March, date of birth, 25 August 1980.
“At last,” said Kit. “I belong somewhere in time.”
“I’m glad.” Denny yearned to pull Kit into an embrace, yet hesitated. Danger had pumped up his energy levels for what seemed like an age. Having Kit here in his home without jeopardy wasn’t an anticlimax, but it felt unsettling.
I still hardly know you.
And I don’t think they write relationship guides for closet cross-dressers and Ethereal Beings who’ve been about since the time of the Crusades.
Kit slammed his passport down on top of one of the pots, then peeled off his jacket, which he slipped onto one of the hooks. His hair looked as messy as his makeup and stuck out in a dozen directions. Denny chuckled nervously, but his amusement died soon enough.
Underneath, Kit wore a skinny-fit black T-shirt, which hugged firm biceps and neat pecs that his previous scruffy outfit had swamped. Denny admired Kit’s arse and athletic legs, and his worries ebbed a little.
Oh yeah. When you fancy somebody this much, it doesn’t mean a relationship will work…but it helps.
“So what do you want to do now?” asked Kit.
“I dunno. Maybe we ought to just sleep. God, on Monday morning…I still haven’t a clue what I’m going to do.” Should he quit, face the music, go to one of the tabloid newspapers with an exposé, or what?
“It’s Friday, for heaven’s sake,” said Kit. “We’ve got two days to think everything over.”
“We?” He was the one with responsibilities. With Jen to consider, these decisions ought to be his alone. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell Kit to back off. He suppressed a wince at the cliché galloping through his mind.
A problem shared is a problem halved.
Kit shot him a questioning look and then wandered toward the kitchen. “Also, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but it’s early days. I’d like to make things work, but…well, you know, this is my shot at making something of myself. I’m feeling strong, and maybe I should look around a bit before settling down.”
“You’re saying you don’t want this? I mean…us?” Denny’s knee-jerk panic startled him. He dashed after Kit. “You don’t want us to even try?”
Kit turned on the tap to fill the kettle and then glanced over his shoulder, lifting a brow. “Shall we talk about it over a nice cup of tea?”
Denny glowered. “You’re taking the piss.”
“Yeah.” Kit slammed down the kettle without turning it on. “I want to be with you more than anything, and I’m a manipulative little bastard. What you going to do about it?”
Denny grabbed him and pulled him close. Kit looped his arms about Denny’s shoulders, taking advantage of his heels again to press his lips easily to Denny’s. Kit’s mascara had run even messier than the panda-eyed girl’s had.
“Yes, you’re a manipulative bastard, and you look a total state.” Denny growled, his erection burgeoning as they pressed hard bodies together. “Why do I fancy you so much?”
“I could ask the same question. You look like a highwayman ready for the gallows.”
“Sod it.” Tea could wait. Denny shoved his shoulder to Kit’s chest and hoisted him up onto it. He carried him from the kitchen, up the stairs, and into the bedroom, slapping Kit’s arse while the elf wriggled and yelped.
When he got Kit flat on the covers, the elf took control. He wrestled Denny onto his back, claiming him with a ravenous kiss and setting him moaning beneath the onslaught. Denny ran his fingers over Kit’s tight T-shirt, desperate to touch his sculpted chest, his smooth stomach beneath.
And he was dying to be fucked and filled by the cute guy who writhed on top, with his cheap Lycra miniskirt riding up around his hips. This was a dream Denny had never realized he harbored till the opportunity presented itself. Now that it had, he could not resist.
Denny wanted to be done by Kit in drag.
When the kiss waned, he suckled Kit’s lower lip before letting him break away. Hitching his knees up either side of the elf’s slender body, he wrapped his arms about Kit’s waist, pulling him close.
“You want to top?”
Kit threw his head back and laughed; he looked like a dirty golden angel, his delight as tangible as his relief. “I thought no one would ever ask.”
Kit yanked off his tights and then grabbed the lube from the bedside cabinet, urgency building in his steely eyes that seemed to burn on the verge of pain. Denny scrambled his jeans down and shoved one of his pillows beneath his back, his knees pulled up and buttocks thrust forward, ready for Kit to touch his arsehole for the first time. The coolness of the gel made him hiss, although Kit’s ministrations proved tender, and the elf did not yet push a digit inside.
A soft, sweet humming reached his ears. Kit’s gentle massaging about his opening willed him to relax, and he shifted his hips again, urging Kit to penetrate him. Kit obeyed, slipping a fingertip in easily.
Denny found him almost too gentle; he might have never bottomed, but he was more than ready. He muttered, “I can take more.”
Kit soon worked three digits in him, bringing a twist of pleasured pain and setting his whole body screaming for closer contact. He scrunched the sheet in his hand, his vision so blurred he could barely appreciate the exquisite sight of Kit, the elf’s cock engorged and weeping. His own prick jutted out like some monumental stone column set askew.
“You want me to use a condom?” asked Kit, his voice an alluring husk. “I can if you’re happier that way.”
Denny shook his head, recalling what Kit had said about elves not requiring protection. He decided to trust Kit. Besides, he’d expire if made to wait any longer. “Just fuck me now,” he pleaded.
Kit slipped out and lowered himself on his hands and knees, until the fabric covering his chest touched Denny’s thighs and his cock brushed between Denny’s buttocks. Kit rubbed his cockhead against Denny’s anus, probing gently, then harder, until Denny’s body gave easily, and the elf entered him with a swift shove. Kit parted his lips in a gasp of silent ecstasy, and Denny’s needful moan rumbled from his depths. Reaching up, he smoothed the line of Kit’s cheekbone, smudging his makeup further.
“You’re a kinky sod,” growled Denny. “I’m going to enjoy watching you come inside me.”
Kit flexed his arms, shifting his body slowly at first and all the while fixating on Denny’s eyes; he’d read only enjoyment there. Denny basked in the burgeoning comprehension that glimmered on Kit’s countenance.
We’ve both wanted this forever.
The elf started to fuck more forcefully, gathering speed and striking against Denny’s prostate. The mattress creaked. Denny murmured with bliss. “Damn…yes…damn good.”
He squeezed about Kit, losing control of his contracting muscles as his pleasure multiplied and he surfed the flow of sensation. Kit glided in and out of him, his cock fitting like he’d been born—or materialized—to sheathe it there.
I wonder what that was like—emerging randomly in the time of the Crusades? I’ll have to ask about it one day.
The thought brought no pang of regret or reservation. He didn’t care if Kit turned out to be a Martian. Without doubt the best sexual partner he’d ever had, Kit was kind and funny, he “got” him, he liked cleaning, he looked good in his home…and damn it, back to point one. He was great in bed.
If anything mattered beyond this final fact, Denny ceased to care. Kit’s stimulation of his prostate fractured his mind, his awareness reduced to the feel of the man inside him. When he opened his eyes, Kit’s face filled his vision, perspiration pouring from pale skin, mascara streaking his cheeks, and sublime concentration etched on his brow.
Their gazes met once more. Tears of pleasure could not dilute the fusion of their souls. Kit half laughed, half groaned, the abandoned cry of a guy who’d no need to recall his bad times, his ancient history. Like their bodies, their needs were in perfect harmony—to be here, making love just like this, and with nobody else.
Kit cried out again, burying himself till he smacked his balls against Denny’s upturned arse. The last of Denny’s faculties splintered, and he milked Kit’s cock, body and soul governed by the power of their union. Kit grasped Denny’s prick, gently pumping. Denny’s every fiber tautened, his orgasm gathering in the base of his shaft. Pushing himself on one trembling arm, Kit teetered on the brink too; Denny read it in his clenching teeth and from the quick, desperate movements up his arse. He braced Kit’s chest, supporting him, giving him the leverage to make one last plunge.
“Agh!” Kit screamed.
Denny stared to the ceiling as the elf rammed into him, pummeling his sweet spot; the bedstead clattered against the wall, and the lamp shade shook. Kit climaxed inside him with several hot judders, simultaneously brushing his thumb over Denny’s glans and bringing forth an explosion of white liquid and bliss.
Kit collapsed on top of him, a tangle of damp hair and Lycra and sinewy limbs. Denny grunted, and then he grinned lazily. Damn, this felt good. He wanted to lie with Kit between his legs, softening inside him forever. But after a few moments, Kit extracted himself, and they settled more comfily.
Just before he drifted off to sleep, it occurred to Denny he’d not kept his promise to John about keeping quiet. He experienced a vague stab of guilt, but it was hard to care.
He’d worry about that in the morning.
* * * * *
When he awoke, dull gray light filtered through the curtains.
Saturday at last.
And the second day in a row he hadn’t woken up alone.
Kit had rolled away in the night, but their legs remained entwined. As memories of the previous day’s events filtered back, Denny felt no tightness in his belly, no surge of worry. He brushed a strand of hair from Kit’s brow, and a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. The elf fluttered his clotted black lashes and opened his eyes, stretching an arm above his head.
“Hello,” said Denny.
Kit yawned. “Morning, gorgeous.”
They lay there tangled together. Denny wondered if either of them was going to do anything about their mutual morning hard-ons, but still felt too sleepy to initiate. His arse faintly sore from Kit’s fucking, he decided he might be in the mood to get his own back today. Maybe later. Right now, holding each other and breathing as one felt just too pleasant.
After a few minutes, Kit rested his chin on Denny’s chest and regarded him from under lazy eyelids. “You still worried…about stuff?”
Denny shrugged. “I want to quit my job on Monday and start looking for another right away. I have savings to last us a short while without taking cash off Henry, and I ought to find something else soon, but…is that the best thing do to? I dunno…” He trailed off. They’d fought their own little battle and done okay so far. But they’d not won the war Henry had spent his whole life battling in vain.
Denny had never dreamed of being a freedom fighter, but going from elf catcher to elf liberator seemed a hell of a good narrative structure for a bloke’s life. In the long run, it might help Kit and others like Kit. And who would Jen rather have for a dad—a hero or one of the evil henchmen?
On the other hand, he could end up in jail. That would do Jen no good at all. He betrayed his disquiet with a sigh.
“You know what I think?” said Kit. “Your uncle’s a great bloke, but if he couldn’t bring the system down from within after all those years, maybe it’s not the best way to fight. If you want to fight. You don’t have to, Denny. I feel I must do my bit with the chance I’ve been given, but I won’t pressure you to join me.”
As Kit addressed each of his many doubts, Denny narrowed his eyes. “You reading my mind again?”
“Even if I could, I don’t need to, mate. It’s kind of obvious. You’re a worrier, and it doesn’t take a sixth sense to see what’s going on in your head.”
Kit rolled back onto the pillow, and Denny stroked the bristly curve of his lover’s jaw. “I do need time to think,” he conceded. “I can’t see myself starting riots—even with me hoodie on.”
“Let’s give it a month, then. We need to plan. You’re not the only one who can earn money. I have my talents.” Kit winked. “And we need a month, you and I. Just to be certain about…us.”
Right then, Denny felt pretty certain. He also knew the elf was right. “Yeah, we need space. And as for the EB cause, I suppose what we need in this day and age is some sort of online campaign, using Twitter and Facebook and everything. We could hack into government records and leak them or something.” Kit sharpened his gaze with interest, and Denny’s mind raced on. Once he stopped worrying and thought practically, he was warming to the task already. “I’ve got inside knowledge and so has Henry, although I’m not much good with computers and code. We’ll need somebody to help us there.”
He glanced up at the bedstead and the thin wall beyond.
John was a software developer and might have some hacking skills. If his neighbor could forgive them a second night of riotous lovemaking, he might turn out very useful.
Could they trust him?
Denny and Kit could make the decision together. He grinned at Kit, and as his heart lightened, his cock hardened. It was not yet nine o’clock.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked. The feel of Kit’s prick digging into his thigh rendered this a rhetorical question. They had time for sex and could still be early at Saritha’s.
Kit smiled coyly and got up. “I’m going to the bathroom to wash this crap off my face. You going to get dressed for me?”
As Kit left the room, Denny suppressed his beam under a sexy glower. Hell yeah, he would. He jumped from his bed and hurried to his drawer. This morning, he figured, would be a great time to try on his newest silk chemise, the one he’d not yet dared unwrap from its pretty pink tissue paper…then have Kit peel it all off again.
* * * * *
They walked over to Saritha’s, chatting all the way about John, shopping, football, and everything they could pack into their bedroom schedule over the next month.
When they reached the forecourt of Saritha’s smart apartment block, Kit paused and fell silent.
“What?” asked Denny. “You’re not having second thoughts?” He laughed, hardly believing how confident he felt that Kit wasn’t regretting giving things a go. But something troubled him.
“It’s Jen,” said Kit. He whistled pensively. “I’ve never had much to do with kids, although I enjoy entertaining them, and I know I’ll adore her, but…” He trailed off, chewing his bottom lip.
“But you’re nervous?”
“Hardly been so nervous in my life. I never believed I’d have the chance to be anything approaching a father, didn’t dare dream of it. Seriously, what if she hates me? What if—”
Denny silenced his worries with a kiss. “She’ll adore you.” It wasn’t his place to promise this, but knowing Jen, he felt pretty damn sure. “Saritha’s going to love you as well. Although not nearly as much as I do.”
That’s not bloody possible.
“Love you too,” said Kit. He slid his tongue to his cheek and laughed, but sincerity blazed in his eyes. Denny silently agreed the words felt silly but wonderful.
“Come on,” said Denny. “Let’s go meet her.”