Fuck, Pasha was right here. Keeping even an inch away was impossible, so he stood as close as he could. Still damp strands of hair that smelled of shampoo tickled the tip of his nose, and he lowered his hands from Pasha’s shoulders until their fingers locked together. “We made it, all the way, Pash.” He swallowed, and tightened his grip.
Pasha’s inhale was quick and shallow. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Ed’s lips and then another slower, more deliberate one to their center. When he pulled back, some of the tension had drained from his face. A grin bloomed in its place. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Ed returned the first easy smile he’d seen from his man in far too long, and then he loosened his grip when Pasha raised a hand to touch the bridge of Ed’s nose. “They’re going to hate you in makeup later.” His fingertip traveled across the width of Ed’s face, following the path of his cheekbone.
“Why?”
“Because of this.” Pasha touched where Ed’s skin was pink from the Afghan sun, tender where he pressed the pad of his thumb. Just as it started to drizzle with rain, they stood half a world away from where Ed had forgotten his sunscreen, and Pasha leaned in and kissed him. Rainwater misted Pasha’s fringe by the time they were done. “You really caught the sun out there, didn’t you?” He smiled, a wide and beautifully bright beam that left Ed’s breath trapped in his chest.
He’d caught the sun all right.
He’d caught it right here at home.
Pasha’s roomwas in another hotel. They made it up to his floor before many of its other guests had surfaced. Someone in a nearby room was watching the TV loudly. Ed slid the Do Not Disturb door hanger into place to the sound of the BBC news echoing in the hallway. He could just about make out the sober tone of the newsreader—conflict somewhere overseas escalating again—but he closed the door in a hurry when he heard the twin thuds of Pasha kicking off his shoes. Pasha had got as far as unfastening his jeans, but he slowed his movements when Ed turned to face him.
Ed crossed his arms and leaned back, happy to ignore the slight discomfort of the peephole and emergency exit sign pressing into his back when Pasha hesitated, cheeks darkening as his fingers fumbled.
“Need some help with that?” Ed dropped a hand to his own belt and then unbuttoned the fly of his jeans without looking, tugging so the buttons popped swiftly through their holes. His other clothes were as easy to remove—going from fully dressed to naked in no time at all.
“No.” Pasha got busy without looking at his clothes, eyes fixed on Ed until he got tangled, trapped by the snarl of hissleeves while his jeans hobbled him at his knees. His stumble was easy to intercept—four paces and Ed had him.
“Less haste, more speed.” He freed Pasha from his clothes, methodical and thorough, folding his T-shirt before dropping it on the end of the bed and kneeling to peel off his socks. From this close, the line of Pasha’s cock was clear, pointing toward his hip, snug in the soft jersey of his boxers. Ed stroked it through the fabric, thumb tracing its head a few times, lingering where it flared, before he got back to work.
“Lift your foot.” Pasha’s jeans slipped off easily. Ed ran the flat of his palms from Pasha’s toes, following fine bones and tendons to his ankles, squeezing there for a moment before moving upward, skimming the tight swell of his calves until he got to the backs of his knees. He halted at Pasha’s tremble and looked up at the sudden grasp on his shoulders. Now Pasha’s boxers were tenting, and he looked dazed.
“Why does that feel so…?”
“So what?” Ed circled the smooth skin behind Pasha’s knees with the tips of his fingers, finding a hollow that Pasha shivered at again when touched.
“So good.” Pasha closed his eyes and added, “I watched gay porn this week.” His eyes flew open, and Ed saw his earlier flush now spread to his chest. “I mean, on purpose.” Pasha’s eyes closed again for a moment when Ed chuckled. “Shut the fuck up. You know exactly what I mean.”
“And?”
“And I paid attention. What we’re going to do. It’s not—” His fingers dug into the flesh across Ed’s shoulders in response to the lazy path Ed’s hands took upward, touching lightly, so lightly, learning the muscle groups of his thighs, following the path of Pasha’s hamstrings up to the curve of his ass. “It’s really not rocket science.” His breaths stuttered when Ed nosed the line of his dick. “Cock goes in arse.”
“Sometimes.” Ed pulled Pasha’s underwear down, avoiding the bob of his freed dick by pressing words into the vee of his hip. “Not always.” He stroked Pasha again, fully firm now, filling his palm and twitching at the touch of Ed’s breath.
“That’s what you like, though.” Pasha’s eyes had closed. “You said, back in Cornwall—” He broke off and blinked when Ed started to suck him, slowly at first, his mouth ghosting over the head of his cock, lips barely pushing back his foreskin, tip of his tongue flicking oh so lightly. “Fuck, fuck that’s so….” His hands found their way to Ed’s hair, and his next words had Ed pulling off to listen. “You said you wanted to fuck me with your fingers first, and with your tongue. So I checked that out.”
“Yeah?” Ed got to his feet, and they stood chest to chest, cocks almost level.
“Yes.” Pasha’s eyes were so dark they looked black. He let Ed guide him onto the bed, letting go of his hair and sinking back onto pillows that were still bunched from where he’d slept. “I went out and bought some lube. Hoped no one would take a photo for once. Then I practiced the first part.” He cracked a smile, but it was small and didn’t reach his eyes. “Doing it to myself didn’t feel like this.”
“No?” Ed mouthed at a nipple that pulled tight at the touch of his tongue.
“Nope.” Pasha arched under his mouth when he nipped, stomach flexed tight when Ed stroked him again, rocking slightly between the two sensations. “Fuck, Ed. Why does everything feel so good when you do it?” He sounded half pissed off, half confused. “It didn’t feel anything like this at all. Made me think I wouldn’t be able to….”
Ed lifted his head. “You don’t have to do anything.”
“You….” Pasha cupped his jaw and encouraged him up. “This….” He reached between them and grasped Ed’s cock. “You make me want to.” His glance flicked to a wash bag on thebedside table before returning to him. There was that too small smile again that looked so wrong on Pasha’s face.
No.
Conflict wasn’t anywhere close to what Ed needed to see on Pasha’s face right now.
Not after close to a week of getting reminded that love was the only thing worth bearing arms for.
Ed reached for the bag and took over. He found what he needed and straddled Pasha’s hips. “You’ve got one job.” He leaned so close that they shared breath. “All you have to do is pay attention.”